I bare sandals as I step out,
half expecting the lawn to respond
like it did yesterday, when
the sun encouraged its green
tendrils to grow plush and wiggly,
tickling my fleshy exposed toes.
But time can change quickly,
and my exposed toes scrunch under,
seeking shelter from winter’s chill
and the inevitable crunch of grass as it
splays frozen and flat beneath the sandal.
Together, we bear the weight of the season.
Linda rybak said:
Yes we bear the weight of the season. As I understand it there will be more to bear too. Brrrrrrr