A Letter to the First of May

Dear Spring on the first day of May,

I'm now officially concerned about you. At first, I thought you were only having a little difficulty emerging this year. We all have it rough sometimes, and I would never hold it against you if you just aren't feeling up to it. I don't want to put pressure on you, but you are needed. The first of May has come, and there are still no leaves on the trees. The magnolia up the street is beginning to bloom despite that, and looks cheerless and forlorn. It seems to be the very representation of your state.

Are you in mourning, dear Spring? Is it the earthquake in Japan, or the tornadoes in the U.S., or are you still reeling from the oil spill last year? It's okay if you are. I totally understand. I am still grateful for the removal of Winter's chill, even if you don't have the energy to radiate your typical light and warmth. My main concern is that Summer needs your permission to take over next month, and I'm wondering if you will be there to hand her the reigns.

When you hear sighs of frustration, please know that it's only because I miss you. On the days when you do make an appearance, I am so glad to have you that all of the recent dreariness is forgotten. There is still time, dear Spring! Please come and stay for a bit.

Sincerely,
Shelley.