was a thunderstorm with a high of twenty-two.
Stretching in a studio anticipating
the song of raindrops to slide down glass walls.
They were right about the high of twenty-two,
But yellow light streamed inside instead,
Too bright we reluctantly put down the blinds.
In a building you can’t feel a high of twenty-two,
A little walk to the store to buy pairs of pointe shoes
For rehearsals that stretch further than sunshine.
At day’s end hoped it’d still be a dry, high of twenty-two,
Sigh of relief stepping out into fresh air
Body had been programmed to seize up for winter’s chill.
Skin finally sees the sun again, in a high of twenty-two,
Cool breezes aerate fibres of clothing
While the clouds are patiently waiting.
Thank you Mr. Weatherman for reporting the good news,
But it’s nature who let us have a a high of twenty-two
Spring weather makes me so excited for summer and spending time outside. April showers bring May flowers, so pour on, rains of Toronto, because I can’t wait to see green on the trees like the grass. It looks like we’ll be rotating around our seasonal wardrobes very soon…
Thanks for reading,