Counting up, counting down.

About this time of the year

days become
slippery
misty with anticipation 

spring returning like a new uncle
moving back home

someone nobody really can be sure of
couldn't be guaranteed
what exact dimensions
or disposition would make him arrive. He had
promised to come
when the right detail
the right colors
the right mood
was achieved
though nothing we did changed anything
since his coming was dependent on secrets carried in the winds
and a calendar chiseled in a marbled land.

When he finally shows up 

and easily accommodated

in our daily routines

each new food will taste grand 

so tired

we all are

of indoor games
and canned beans

and nights spent captured 

under heavy blankets.

When uncle leaves
and aunt and cousins take his place

we'll hardly notice 

busy jumping off lake ramps

into cool water

to shed the heat

that 

has

become

unbearable.

We'll grow tired

of long swims and long days

just when 

the cousins will be collected
to return to their homes 

needing new clothes 

and backpacks.

We'll all be eagerly waiting for

school to open, for the time  

when
in
 single

file
we 

line
up
to
enter
another
grade

 and greet our old friends.