Twitterpated

I sometimes forget that the foothills can be green.
When the sight for months on end
has only been variations of slate and brown,
dry sheaves of grass
and ever sinking, muddied ponds.

and it comes so late,
spring,
after false hopes
and late snow,
the back and forth of thawing
and refreezing under feet of snow.

but that first day
when I notice just barely perceptible
tones of olive and forest green
in the backdrop of this mountain scene,

it feels like a long-forgotten memory
has suddenly reappeared before my eyes,
reminding me
that something comes alive inside of me
with the romance of spring.

What happens when you hear ‘Let it Snow’ ten times in one day:

As long as you love me so
let it snow
I don’t care
As long as you love me so
I can make it through
so many hard days
it doesn’t matter
if you love me so
my dear
a bright warmth in my heart
that keeps me going
your love
oh Colorado snow
you can keep on coming
my love is here
and that is all that I need
to be alright
so let it snow