If you don't like the weather...wait five minutes... |
Prompt for: April 19, 2016 (Ren) Subject or Theme: We are smack in the middle of spring. Describe a spring day where you live. Word(s) to Include: death, elevate (or any derivatives of these words) Forbidden Word(s): animals, baby, bloom, buds, flowers, new, renew, young (or any derivatives, compound or hyphenations of these words) Additional Parameters: Remember, do not use forbidden words ANYWHERE, including title or the brief description. Michigan Spring A two year old throwing weather tantrums: fevered highs, snowy lows, mittens and shorts. A six year old coloring outside the lines: scribbling swiggles, mixing colors, scrawling name, claiming ownership. A ten year old rediscovering two-wheeled freedom: flashing by, no hands needed, as swarms form honeyed smiles. A teenager rakes winter's leavings: leaves, stormfall branches, a missed candy cane, found Frisbee. A thirty-something oils, gasses up the mower: greening grasses need spring haircut while hardware lists beckon. Hard-hatted worker pulls construction cones, neon-orange barrels from his truck: Spring, road-work - synonymous. The neighborhood cat condescends to ear scratching: shedding cat hair, as winter coats give way to shirtsleeves, pink noses. Fathers relegate winter tools to backyard sheds, unearths golf clubs, (considers disappearing) opt to avoid death-glares, attack the honey-do list instead. Mothers send kids, toys, noise outside, watching as she washes the front window. Writer sits by opened window, chained to desk, penning thoughts for a deadline approaches. Perhaps, later. A blue stranger checks out the ornamental birdhouse owl elevated in the maple tree, gathers twigs, street-side detritus. Cranky two year old pulls blanket close, cries a storm-cloud. Snowflake crystals crown daffodils, form epaulets on shirts clothespinned to the line. My husband shrugs, says that Spring has sprung. Fires up the grill, sets up the patio, stacks wood in the fire pit for later. The two year old sleeps. Crackling branches form a garden of heated color as neighbors wander over carrying yard chairs. Hibernation is finished. |