Forty Seven Degree Heat Wave
I threw my coat into the back seat because it felt like summer.
Forty-seven degrees! A heat wave after the below nine’s we had been having.
Let’s go swimming! I yelled to my husband who was still curled up in a blanket.
Shivering, because he claimed it was still winter. It’s forty-seven! I screamed.
I ran back outside to see if the yellow daffodils were up yet. They weren’t.
Then I got out my tiller, but alas, the ground was still frosty and hard.
Maybe I can mow? I thought. Then I remembered I gave my lawnmower away.
I called the gardeners. How soon do you think you can come? I asked them.
They thought it was hilarious that I was asking. In a month or two, they said.
I am ready for spring now! I thought. So I took out my paints and began to create.
I made roses lilies, geraniums, tulips, a giant rainbow, faeries, two dragons.
If spring cannot come to me, at least I can come to spring. Right?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
