sign of the season

the melting and un-melting of the chocolate bar that was sitting on the passenger seat of the car all day on
sunday    when i picked up the craigslist yellow dresser, when i went to that potluck, when i met you all at the river right before you jumped in  so that when we decide to open it, we eat lumpy mounds instead of neat
squares

on the day that february decided to be july

on the day that february decided to be july

i drive k and e to the train for their adventure south just as the sun is
rising

i drive home from the train and thread my way through the morning mist

i arrive home to empty the bucket of maple sap from the tree in the yard into a pot on the wood stove (still unlit) (too warm)-which makes five pots of varying sizes- all full to the brim with maple sap, waiting. to boil.

i put on leggings and sneakers and run around the block because it is already almost warm enough for a t shirt, and i see j who is also running, so we run together for five minutes.

we drink maple sap in the open doorway.

all before breakfast.

the red winged blackbirds come out and I see them in the garden and the air is thick with shorts and tank tops and rushing river melt.

i press send on the seed order for the plants i’ll tend in the spring.

the chunks of ice shrink in the shade.

i go to bed before the stove is ever lit.

the cooking pots of sap will wait for tomorrow, when we light a fire, when it is winter again.