winter’s waiting room,
impatiently crossing and
uncrossing my legs swinging
my feet, and sighing, knowing
that my appointment is
scheduled for a few months
from now, but wondering how
much longer spring is going to
make me wait.
The receptionist is throwing
me icy glances, as she
discontentedly flips through a
bright summer magazine, and stifles a yawn, her exhale coating the wall with icicles.
This is a stark cold room, chilly both in temperature, and decoration the winter light glares off of the cold
counters, white walls, squeaky seats covered in some glossy white fabric, looking for all the world like ice
cubes. Who thought to decorate with snow, and bare branches, cheap that’s what they are…where is the sunshine, and warmth…
I’m sure that down the hall Spring’s waiting room is full of flowers bursting through the walls, birds chirping.
I’m tired of waiting, I get up and peek through a window towards the parking lot, I can see into Summer’s softly glowing room, I’d much rather be there enjoying myself…but I am here. In winter’s waiting room, waiting for spring to show up, and take me down the hall.
It’s a good thing I brought my seed catalogues to read..because I’m going to be spending a long time in winter’s waiting room.
Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams