Itchy

Still need the big down comforter when I sleep

but I woke this morning with itching eyes

Guess we switched overnight

from the season of cold toes

to the season when the pollen makes your nose run

Sat in bed with my tea

not particularly interested in entering

the chaos and optimism

of all that green energy outside

Took me three tries and I still

don’t like the clothes I picked

I look like I can’t decide if I’m a tomboy

or kind of girly, maybe I’m a

farmer specializing in orchids and jasmine

or a rancher who raises Angora rabbits

Can’t find the will to untangle my own contradictions

Remembering that terrified girl

who really did do all the reading in high school

Somewhere in spring semester

she just stopped wanting to get out of bed

She did anyway

It was grim

I’m telling myself I was happy dug in like a mole all winter

Not yet ready to admit I was getting bored