Back to December by Talia Blechman

I remember waking up to the early sunlight shining through my bedroom curtains,
separating the curtains and being softly blinded with a warm beam of light.
I remember the soft cries of my chihuahua begging me to walk her as she wagged her
tail on my bed.
I remember walking down my lonesome street, sitting down in the middle of the road,
and still only hearing white noise.
I remember looking up to the melancholy sky while December’s apricity sparkled on
my face.
I remember counting the days until my estivation, yearning for 6 months to dissipate
and the heat to tap on my shoulder in anticipation.
I remember feeling blue like the snow that began to sprinkle from the open gray sky
and I begin to trudge inside my front door.
What I didn’t realize was the conveniences winter gave me,
And how happy I really was.