The days are getting longer.
A beleaguered Canada proclaims,
In a winter-exhausted jubilance.
All the bulbs are bursting out of the ground,
Beautiful zombies after a cold apocalypse,
Reaching up like Lazarus from the grave.
And people are smiling again,
Rejoicing in Spring.
â€œWe made it!â€
As though we arenâ€™t living in Victoria,
Confusing all the world with our mild climate
And relatively benign winters,
If you can call three days just below freezing
See, I like Winter.
I miss its quiet, peaceful blanket.
The solitude, the cozying up, the hot cocoa.
Diamond-glazed trees and crystalline trees.
A reason to cuddle (in case you need a reason).
But Spring is coming.
And I shudder,
Because I donâ€™t love Spring.
Iâ€™m not sure I really even like it all that much.
All that rain.
All that grey.
All that mud.
Iâ€™m over it.
I went for a run last week,
Through a flurry of cherry blossom petals,
Which was very pretty,
I inhaled a petal by accident,
And dry-heaved and spluttered
Like a fool on the chip trail,
In between Cook Street and the playground.
I know itâ€™s not okay to dislike spring;
Itâ€™s like saying you donâ€™t like puppies.
But I do like puppies,
Very much, thank you.
And Spring just tried to choke me.
Letâ€™s get on with Summer.
~ Bay 2016