winter is so dull
between snowfall
and it feels like
summer
every time.
floating above
the beige and gray
streets
i feel like an angel
of the melting snow
from my bedroom
window on the
second floor
february and march
have me
sitting on my
bedroom floor
for hours
as if it will keep
me grounded,
sipping a can of
minute maid lemonade
and sketching
silly things—
cheez-its,
bubble gum,
pretty flowers—
in my art class
sketchpad.
i keep the windows open
even though the tv
says it's cold
but this time of year
always feels warm to me.
