ode to the beginning of spring
i want to write about a sun bright enough to be called saffron;
called golden; called honey; called yolk. i want to write about
light spilling across my floors, playing hide and seek with
flickering shadows. i want to write about the sun warming
each inch of my body, reminding me of the joys in being alive.
instead, i am facing the sad grey sky that somehow still manages
to strain my eyes when i look too long. instead, i am looking out
at my green lake and my yellow grass and calling them mine even
though they call to nothing in me. even the birds have disappeared.
how empty a moment of silence can feel. i’ve grown tired of the bare
trees like hands scraping at the skies. i’d settle for a single bud of green,
though i have three tables covered in plants, so i guess that can’t be true.
the birds have returned to call out their need, and still, something inside me
is whispering. i want to cover the sky in watercolor, pour pigment til i perk up.
i want life to brighten and pull spring in by the leash. it’s time to get up, get rid
of this grey. golden hour, where have you gone? goldenrod sun, return to me.
i’d settle for the shortest peak between the clouds. i’d settle for all clouds
if the sky behind were blue enough. tired of pine being the deepest green,
i’m ready for spring leave. with no rain, there’s no excuse for no sun.
i’d like the artist painting the sky to kick it up a notch.
i’d like to have a word with who’s in charge of the light.
apollo, pull your carriage faster across the sky.
how could you have gotten so lost.
yesterday i craned my neck to keep looking
at the first bluejay of the year.
today i am sore and regretful only
that the sun forgot to wake up alongside me.
i think it started raining because i said with no rain there’s no excuse
for no sun. excuse me mister weatherman, i think you
misunderstood. i’d settle for rain,
but i was asking for sun.
BEE LB is an array of letters, bound to impulse; a writer creating delicate connections. they have been published in Revolute Lit, Roanoke Review, and Third Iris, among others. they are the 2022 winner of the Bea Gonzalez Prize for Poetry. their portfolio can be found at twinbrights.carrd.co