Waiting

After months of gray dormancy I am ready to feel alive again.  We've done little things here and there on the house.  More maintenance than creation.  I've grown so accustomed to it's little idiosyncrasies that I hardly notice the things that used to annoy me.  I think that the blanket of snow that slowly piled and covered us into a bitter cold silence also begins a slow maliciousless suffocation of my creative energy, my wishes, and just as spring hovers upon emergence, I wonder if I can possibly make it out with anything left at all.  Then, the sunshine, the hint of green, a gentle spring rain all remind me of the dreams I'd buried under winter coats and heating bills.  It is coming, I can see it in the sky, the way the clouds roll across the Wisconsin forests to the river and the plains.  I can't wait until it gets here again, my flighty mistress, Summertime.