An Ode to February

February remains bittersweet in this town of trees and weeds
The sun teases our shoulders, 
frolicking to us and away again before I can turn my head
Peaking ‘round the corner, making all look like a fool
Spring is shuttering and winter’s goodbyes are hard to bear
as the pack upon my back has already been filled

Dulled senses, Thick socks
Crisp eyes, Thin boots
My sense of direction feels flawed,
The timeline of running shoes and long sleeves
to meet the ecstatic troubles of the fresh season

Months of cold, I don’t know how to see
months of shine again without the strength to mutter hello
The continuation of time fluttering past
as it doesn’t consider who it’s touching
The light blinds my troubled eyes, 
no glasses can repair

February stings every year it appears 
For its candy hearted, hopeful souled, and 
silky smiled span can only make the man look forward
Despite the anticipation, I attempt to remain in 
the month of gooey in-betweens

An ode to the last surviving month of certainty
and the doubt that is to come
An ode to bidding farewell to the practice of the winter
and accepting the challenges of the spring 

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