Feeling Fine in February

February is a love song composed on the mood of spring in the tempo of a Christmas waltz, modulating to estival embraces— recapitulating vernal feelings when autumn falls. February is a pulsing heartbeat, a twinkling eye, a bold susurration, here and gone in twenty-eight days— an interrupted cadence. The whole world would be stoned should Cupid's quivers march along. February is a bouquet of roses, a box of chocolates; goblets of a bubbly cherry wine, threads of scarlet satin suited for ballroom romances; two salmon swimming upstream undaunted to birth the next generation.