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Spring

by Regina McGrew

Winter is the longest season. It drains the land, kills the passions, destroys the spirit. Its coldness creeps into our bones like death into a sick man's bones. We wither under its terrible weight as it casts its terrible spells. When we think we can bear no more, the winter brings even colder temperatures, and then snow, sleet, and rain. We wait patiently, solemnly, near-frozen for the beauty and warmth that is our spring.

6S

Regina McGrew has a thing for Asian men and men of darker complexions. She blogs here.

7 comments:

Leatherdykeuk said...

Nice piece.
It makes me want to curl up and wait for hypothermia ;)

Lisa M said...

Winter seems to last longer every year. Your piece makes me want to curl up in front of my fireplace with my dogs. I love this!

Catherine said...

Amen! We all await the Sunshine!

man of darker complexion said...

Pleased to meet you Regina...

donna said...

Spring has sprung! Thanks Regina!

GM said...

You must be familiar with upstate New York. Winter lasts from October to April. Ohh dear... glad I got away. Nicely written.

hosain said...

I own the second edition of the Harper American Literature... it is in great condition, on the top right is signed "Regina McGrew" and on the bottom is a drawing of a flower...