on saturday i was coatless in the sunny, springing south.
today i hear the drip of melty, mushy snow from another round of winter.
and if i’m honest i find no partiality to either version of march.
i am too often defined, riled, and mood-altered by what’s outside the window.
(i think it has something to do with not wanting to take the temperature of what’s inside).
snow, i accept you.
and i will not let you keep me from going out for mexican tonight.