IDLE

Try to remember
summer is coming.
Sunshine, long days,
heat and fresh produce.

Ice will melt, trees will bloom.
Right?

Will the grass come back though,
from beneath the snow?
The weight of winter is paralyzing,
stunting growth, numbing life.

Time crawls, yet weeks vanish.

How can winter last forever,
when days are only hours.
These months, a time warp,
foolishly, I anticipate.

It will be cozy, I will make blankets, read books.
This year will be different.

Tuck in, make art, drink to tea, make soup,
appreciate everything..
Maybe next year.