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bottled spring This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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Her mom bought a can of air freshener
called “spring.”
The little blue bottle sat on the windowsill in the bathroom,
framed by a small window.
Outside the window,
it was still winter.
Not nice snowy winter.
Hard winter.
Numb winter.
Dull winter.
The grass was dead, the trees bare.
Brown winter.
The little girl tied her hair into pigtails
with green rubber bands.
She dug a small pink dress out of a box
labeled “spring/summer”
with thick black marker.
She had grown since the leaves had fallen.
The dress hardly fell past her scabbed knees.
She didn't wear shoes.
Grabbing the air freshener,
she ran outside,
her pale thin finger pumping thick clouds of mist from the can
as she twirled frantically.
Her feet burned
against the frosted grass.
Crunch.
The mist surrounded her,
and she sucked it in greedily.
She coughed.
It smelled wrong.
Too sweet,
like her mom's perfume.
She wanted flowers.
She wanted butterflies.
She wanted sun.
She was too old to cry,
so she bit her lip
'til it bled a little.
She stood on the brown earth
tugging at her pink dress.
It was too tight.
Her feet were numb.
She ran inside again,
still clutching the little blue bottle.
Sharp needles in her toes.
She missed the daffodils.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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Rennie said...
Mar. 4, 2010 at 5:27 pm:
I LOVE THIS! That is exactly what i feel like right now I am sooooo ready for sun glasses, shorts, and swimsuits! lol Please check out my poems. THANKS!
 
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