Touch of Spring

So I'm running a little late, you say? Well, you're right ... and there was a time when I would've been so guilt-ridden about that ... but today? Today ... a twinge, maybe ... just a twinge.

We were out and about this morning.

We had a few errands to run ... and, of course, we had to get out for our daily walk ... a bit abbreviated today, but still a walk. It was a little too crowded indoors ... and a little too nippy outdoors, so we compromised, cut the walk a tad short, stopped in at a favorite place for a cup of soup, a bit of conversation, and came on home.

The weather ... as it often does at this time of year ... had me thinking about spring.

No harm in looking ahead, I always say ... or, in this case, back to a particular day well before this poem was published in 1999.

I still recall that moment ... a brisk day, the exact bus stop where I felt the sun bouncing off the brick building ... like it was putting an arm around me ... offering reassurance.

And so it is with the eventual arrival of spring (are you counting the days yet?), that season of renewal, of hope, that warm promise of things to come.

The poem:

TOUCH OF SPRING

I feel a touch

like a friendly hand

on my back, an arm

across my shoulders,

for the sun has

broken free of clouds

and is projecting

a warmth I had

almost forgotten.

I smile at strangers

and they smile back,

for they're feeling

that touch, too,

that warm embrace.

© 1999

(originally published in Capper's)

***

Today's word: embrace

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

Hey, Vicki! Thanks for stopping by! And Merry Christmas to you, too! Oh, if I could just spring forward to spring, I would, I really would. But we're already another day nearer to that, right?