Light as I Get up on the First Day of Spring

The light is bright as I slip from under the covers yet the house groans and creaks and the ghost of winter lurks within the walls. When I was a child a teacher said first there was light but I remember the night I danced under the cover of darkness. When I go downstairs the sun shining through the window shows clutter, life’s imperfection as I slip from the embrace of last night’s dreams of someone I loved but that was long ago. I must walk through the clutter to step outside and feel a warm breeze and let the day begin for me. Branches of bare limbs dance in a warm breeze as they wait to bloom. New life, a soothsayer says. A poetic leap, I say, as I grasp the wheel and drive toward the sun.