Summer Sun

I wake up, and my feet are already warmed by the morning sun, long before my alarm clock rings. Another night, and another wash of green paint covers the land. I step out into the early morning, and the warm breeze stirs my wintered heart. It is summer.

And oh, how quickly I forget there was ever a dark day, ever a chill in my bone or death in my veins. My back straightens, my steps are long, even. The streets smell of flowers, of life, of soft velvet nights and bright blinding days. I forget my sunglasses but enjoy squinting; I love what it means. I smile at strangers and splurge on deep red strawberries at the market. Orphan Puppy comes out and dances along the sidewalk while I take deep, warm breaths and stretch my every muscle. There is only this now, only this.

Because there are things to worry about, plans to make. Time runs out of New York, time runs out of my youth, but it will be okay. There is sunshine to drink, life to live, songs to be sung. The dreary piles of debris and gathered angst will go nowhere anyways, so let them wait. Enjoy this moment now, this feeling while it lasts. Make it worth every November rain. I will breathe, while the air is new.