Teetering on the fence of Spring - One Stop Poetry

I sit here wondering when it will come?

Hoping I don't miss the explosion of color,

Once this ice and snow melts

Again, we are wearing Mother Nature White.

Fashionable, perhaps.

Seasonal, perhaps.

Wanted, I speak for myself.  No.

Mother Nature has once again, handed me her hand me down whites.

Blustery, chilly, ice, snow, freezing rain,

Words I have become to hate and shiver as if hypnotized to do so

Where is the sun?  Can't it tease us with a showing?

Of course not with all of this snow blowing.

With  one hand, my coffee  to warm my palm and fingers,

I type words that soon will be gone from everyone's vocabulary

Hopefully I will feel the sun's loving rays

and soon feel like I have been reborn

Wysteria