Spring arrived last week.
I washed the snowpants and parkas.
Mittens, hats, and scarves were tucked away in the basement.
Waiting until next year.
I wore shorts last week.
And sandals. And sunscreen.
Spring had already sprung, you see.
And then, this morning I peered out the window.
Snow. Snow was in the air.
Not just in the air–on the grass, the trees,
the daffodil greens that had not yet bloomed.
For a moment, I felt sorry about the daffodils,
But not for long.
Even though it’s now April,
And the season for skiing, and sledding, and snowmen has passed,
The snow conjured up the memory of winter,
And if I squinted my eyes, it was like time traveling,
Back to December, as if I could do the whole winter over again.
Only better this time.