window plastic season is over

it is grey and pale and it excites me to no end. the puddles. the rainy-day recess of youth full of board games. the sudden encroachment of rivers, pooling wetlands under our tent, waking us from sound slumber. out there, somewere, there are still snakes, and anglerfish. in here, my coffee is mostly used up, and i play games with time till class begins. a bell. a beginning. suddenly, i feel it, like the tulip syllables and choruses of mighty cardinals.