Poem

Spring

Reflection of the sun on the car bonnets parked along the  street, 

I can see it through my window from my spot on the couch. 

The spring sun isn’t strong enough to heat the inside of my  house just yet, 

So the grey walls and carpets still feel like January. I still need fuzzy socks and a blanket for comfort. 

Now the sun decides to intrude on my peace and highlights  the fingerprints on my windows and the film of dust on the  sill, 

Guilting me into movement.

I’ve been frozen in time for days now, my brain disabling my  desire to be productive. 

Heading towards the back door, I pretend not to see the  mountain of dishes by the sink. 

The stench of the bin churning my empty stomach. 

The air shifts, though, as I open the door.  

My eyes squeeze shut as I feel the warmth, like someone  holding me. 

I step forward and as the sun seeps through my skin and  warms my desperate soul, hope comes back to me like a  childhood memory. 

Stood there breathing for just a minute, letting my brain  defrost but not for too long though, I’ve got the dishes to do.

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