Noa Cohen Change in Season

The rain stopped a few nights ago but I check the weather every morning. Don’t want to get stuck again in dirty rainwater up to my shins, or in thoughts of what could have been with another guy I barely knew. Sweet strawberries sit in my fridge – I must finish them quickly, before they rot. There is always a timeline, occasionally an ending. A period after the last word. The sun has been out most days lately and I don’t think I want him back anymore. Today came with a cold wind but the sun stuck around anyway. Warmth is on its way, ready to paint everything on this Earth gold and sweet as mangoes. Ready to dry the damp ankles of my jeans.