january

the days are short
or should be short

but instead they are long
because they don't end with the sun

they bleed into night
grey to black
muting the colors of the world.

the vibrancy of fall fades in my memory,
as does the warmth of summer
or the hope of spring.

vibrancy
warmth
hope.
January.

one of these words doesn't belong.

January
January
january
january
january

color muted into grey
the sun is no longer close enough for warmth
the hope of spring is frozen,
unseen,
and distant in memory.

It is January.
And if it was August, it would still be January in my soul.

but I will try not to be afraid.

it may be cold
and dreary,
ordinary
and mundane.

I guess January must take place for spring to come.
the ground must be barren in oder that hope may bloom.