Spring Is Tardy
(from the NaPoWriMo prompt: Today, I’d like to challenge you to think about the argot of a particular job or profession, and see how you can incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives your poem.)<Ummm, today, I just can't.>
In the past two days the weather finally broke.
Crocuses are up but opening fast and late—
the cold was so intense
and so absolute for so long.
My neighbor’s magnolia is opening too
and in a hurry.
Spring is tardy.
The blowers that keep our school at temp
because it should be warmer
but it has been colder
and now it is warmer
and everyone keeps fiddling with the thermostat.
Why’s it so cold in here?
Why’s it so hot in here?
And all I can think about
is the newest prompt for NaPoWriMo
that tells me I’ve got to write about jargon
from my workplace
when that’s all my school community is
and I’ve got 27 days left
until I don’t have to come to this safe zone
for a nice long while.
A nice long summer while
with hot gusts of wind at the beach
and bonfires in the woods
where the jargon is “s’mores” and “beer.”
Today in class,
before we could get back
to what we had been doing the day before,
a rosy-cheeked girl
rushed through a whined,
“We have to go outside today it’s so nice!”
“Chloe,” I said, “we’re watching a movie.”