Touch of Spring

We were out and about ... had a few errands to run ... had to get out for our daily walk ... a bit abbreviated, 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 originally published.

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:

Sometimes I can't help it. Sometimes, This and That, I wonder how what I've written is being received. Your comment today goes far beyond my expectations. You have brought some warm sunshine into my day, too ... Thank you, Helen, for dropping by and underscoring the observation of This and That. Best wishes.