Moss covered and without a word
Of encouragement
The world fills with spring.
It doesn’t know
Insult and won’t beget a

But that is somewhere else.
“A season is a season”
You say
Shuffling in in your slippers.
And my mind strayed to a time
When April wasn’t Winter
And would bloom.

“It’s simple,” you said
To a room that had only me in it,
The sunshine wasn’t there.
The furniture all burned.
“It will start thawing soon.”

And then you fell asleep,
As your eyelids took that bright green
From me–I choked on a sob.
You had been up all night
In the worst way.

Outside the land sat frozen
And Winter bent to no one.