and cottonwood fluff floats diagonal
on a weak wind, or a firm breeze
the clouds sit on blue nothingness
flat and shaded on the bottom
bright and fluffy on the top
like childhood cookies from the oven
remember the waiting
hands on oven handle like a streetcar handle
the one lightbulb a blur through translucent glass
and finally
just when your patience with time turns from annoyance to anger
Mom says they're ready
and I am ready for this season
snow and rain will be back
but not today
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