we have been stuck in the longest of springs 
one which has offered only pockets of sunshine
teasing us with meagre crumbs
almost mean in being so fleeting

we have been mostly cold
mostly indoors 
or wrapped in layer upon layer 
so when the sun shows her face
we barely feel her gaze 

occasionally we dream of other days 
hazy days belonging to the past or future 
where we dare to strip off 
to feel sunshine being absorbed 
into ourselves 
all that warmth settling
on us
having travelled so very far
bringing nourishment 
from the land of light

we draw those days like a child - 
three quarters of the page is blue
atop a thin line of green 
we are stick men
floating 
upon blue
as a backdrop to everything