a collection of completely legitimate poems

Almost

It's almost Summer

And I'm still stuck in

December.

There's a part of me that

Revels in the rain

In the fresh green grass

And gets out of bed

Right when she wakes up

And still washes her face.

But there's a part of me that

Can't seem to keep up

With the moons, speeding by

Still nursing her wounds

Still learning to fly.

I'm still stuck in December,

Trapped in my room

Content with the stillness outside.

I'm waiting in Winter for my ache to reside.