Leading Me On

This gate set out to conspire with the sun this morning, I swear, leading me on to believe that a warm front had moved in overnight.  Just beyond the shadows spring melt was sweetening the air.   Liar.  Fooler.  Twenty degrees still leaves my cheeks cold and my hands numb.  And the snow banks still smell like winter.

This gate set out to conspire with the sun this morning, I swear, leading me on to believe that a warm front had moved in overnight. “Just beyond the shadows, spring melt is sweetening the air!”  Liar. Fooler. Even sun kissed, twenty degree air leaves my cheeks cold, my hands numb. And the snow banks still smell like winter.

sun kissed

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