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  • Writer's pictureandrew jeter

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

are struggling

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.”

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