You and I started out with such passion, such hope. Your first flakes thrilled me with their romance. You seduced me with visions of evenings by the fireplace. I said good bye to autumn, let it go without a backward glance. But now it seems that our relationship has run its course. You were more than I had bargained for. In fact, you were a lot of work. Was it the first storm that left two feet of snow or the second? Was it the men I hired to clear my roof of ice and snow after the roof began to groan? Winter, I hope you understand; it’s my fault, not yours. You are who you are. It’s me who has changed. I’m moving on; I’m ready for Spring and photosynthesis and the jubilation that can only happen in New England after a robust winter. What? You say that you were getting ready to pack up and head for the Southern Hemisphere anyhow? Can I help you pack? Buy you a ticket? Please send me a postcard when you arrive in the Down Under.
Love,
Jacqueline
Love,
Jacqueline