It starts today

Spring. This morning, I didn’t notice the difference. The light coming through the curtains was still dull and choking, buried under the oppressive clouds. You would almost think that up there, way beyond where the human eye can see, there is a deaf battle going on. That said, some days the sun and the winter were good bedfellows. It is true that this issued right of passage only lasted a few hours.
As everyone, I wait for the banality of the Spring, the secret thrill of the earth and the slow awakening of the land. In that moment I couldn’t find a piece of poetry that would be able to describe it better than I could. The subject has been dealt with on numerous occasions, and still represents the initial emotions weakly written by novice poets…but no, nothing came to mind. I’ll look in the library today.
Mum calls me. She’s made the dinner. We’ll talk, or maybe just stay silent. We’ll smile too, and she’ll rub my shoulders while hugging me, before going up the stairs to her bed. Sometimes, at times like this, I melt in her arms, burying my forehead in the warmth of her neck, and our hugs last even longer. She’s good for me.