springtime lands upon me

with a flavor of regret

how long must it be

till the snow flies again

and it feels good to sip tea

watch the whiteness

or read a new book

length of days intrudes familiarity

slowly green-smelling roots take hold

and suddenly my soul isn't so resistant

like the frolicking jellicle outside the window

hope rises with the sun and I give in

stagnant in the old routine

something in me craves

to climb with the morning glories

this time will be different

this time we'll get it right

in springtime