I'm sorry, Mother Nature, you must have misunderstood me. I was not shouting "Encore! Encore!" in hope of seeing winter continue. I was shouting "No more, no more!" Not even the best available weathermen and scientists predicted yesterday that I would wake up to more snow from you this morning. When will it end?
You are getting old and hard of hearing, aren't you? Fighting to stay when you should be welcoming rebirth and youth. Now look where we are, my crocus babies shivering and buttoned up to hide from your icy touch. Trust me when I recommend that you let those last tired, cold, and scrawny bones of Old Man Winter splinter and crack back to dust. Let winter go. I'm done with it and you should be too. Stop trying to cling to last year victories and move on. Please.
Oh my beautiful snow crocus, mere yellow streaks now, memories of the glorious palette of creams and yellows from only yesterday. Will you come back? Encore, crocus! Will you wait out the frozen rain to bloom again this year? Encore, crocus! How much more can you take? How much more can I take?