“February closes out the only way she knows how,
dancing like a sparkler at dusk. Flower petals
tangled in her hair. She twirls and bows,
welcomes the first signs of spring. Every
thing she touches turn pink. All the barren
trees, sprouting buds when they hear her
name. She carries lavender sprigs between
her teeth, all clean scented and safe. She is
light on her feet. A child once again. Refusing
to say goodnight, just wants one more chance
to greet the moon. February is always being
rushed out of the way. Still, she remains with
her head high. Dewy skin. Pollen laced fingertips.
Starlit eyes. She is as chaotic as a shooting star,
and twice as beautiful.”