Poem: February 24, 2019

Seasonal Affective Disorder

It's been a while since the sun's been out,
so I enjoyed a pleasant moment yesterday
as I crossed the street from the parking lot
heading into work at 7:00 AM and noticed
like a sudden spark the sense of sunlight
on my skin, and there's really no other way
to say it: I had the experience of blooming.
My body lifted itself, opening up under
the warm, dry, bright yellow breath of the sky.
I opened like a beach umbrella brought
out from the basement. I shed the heavy
wet grime of three months and found
my way back into open air, unpacked
and shaken out like the patio set, and
I don't actually care that the forecast
for this weekend includes a chance of snow.
This morning, my daughter said she could
hear the birds singing outside the kitchen,
and the green fingers of the perennials
are pushing through the dead leaves
that have gathered in the flower beds.