Spring is hiding from me.
Like a stubborn child,
She's covering her eyes with her hands
and fighting a guilty smile,
Knowing that she's been caught
but refusing to lose this ongoing game of hide and seek.

She stole my summer memories,
Hiding them under a blanket of snow
in a desperate attempt to force me to move on.
And now they're poking up through the still-frozen soil,
Like crocuses leading the breach of dormancy,
Icy crystals still clinging to the edges.

I can smell the fresh, floral scent of change--
Intermingled with musty nostalgia,
As familiar as an old book
with soft pages and a broken spine--
Drifting through the window,
As a distant, trilling giggle
darts around the corner
and reminds me of our game.

I'm racing through the grass
and melting snow,
In pursuit
of the sound, smell, and sight of Spring,
But my race is hindered by my clumsy feet,
Tripping over last year's warm weather memories
as they seep between my toes.

Eyes that epitomize the sun,
Brighter and clearer than the vast sky,
Dauntingly catch my attention.
I wander to a newborn rose bush
behind which the sly eyes twinkled,
Searching through defensive thorns and barely blooming blossoms;
It is not the elusive Spring I find,
But a delicate note
written in a childish scrawl
and sealed with a butterfly kiss.

"Save your memories for a rainy day,
And surely your tears will be washed away."