The pale blue sky stretches out to embrace the soft rose, peach and lemon chiffon edges of the horizon. It appears that the sky has been painted by children with pastel spring flowers for brushes.
Pollen covered face giggling as they dab daffodils, tulips and lilies across pools of aqua.
As quickly as the hues possessed the sky they fade.
Solemn grays, charcoal and blacks take their place.
To my core the cheery warmth seeps out and is replaced with a cold hollow feeling.
Winter encroaches upon my spring thoughts, and scolds me for having them.
Sighing, I agree, I should have embraced the hues of winter, and not forced them to be something else.
Shame on me.
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