Sitting by the Window in March

When Spring Shines Through

All winter long
the heater on the wall
fought the cold
that clung stubbornly
to the plaster.

Still—
every now and then
a small handful of sunlight
was enough
to make me glad.

And now
spring gathers
in the window.
The tender light
growing stronger
towards midday,
while a warm cup of coffee
loosens the quiet knots
in my heart.

Not too warm.
Not too cold.
In that gentle balance
the tulips
in the blue vase
seem newly alive.

The March window
is sometimes restless—
busy with wind,
busy with rain.

Across the glass
my neighbours keep
their windows closed.
Curtains drawn,
we sense one another
through the pale daylight.

But I—
I lift my curtain
all the way.
I want spring
to walk into the room.

I want a day
when light clothes are enough
and the air no longer bites.

But for now
this is March—
early spring,
just beginning.

*these are my own paintings *