just pick up, i know you're there
walking home, the dust that spreads across the ground is stirred into the air by trucks and cars raoring by. the grit gets in my mouth and my first thought is of summer.
something seems to be hanging over ottawa. maybe it's the unseasonably warm weather we've been having. i see so much skin on the bus that i swear it's june and thirty degrees outside, not the end of march and maybe pushing sixteen, in alcoves protected from the wind. maybe it's the fact that every university student is holding his or her breath, wating, tesning, thinking- three more days of classes and then a few simple tests until summer starts. or maybe, maybe it's the need for a good, solid day of cleansing rain that makes this weight like wet wool drape over the buildings and stir the windchimes on the otherwise silent streets.
whatever it is, i love it. and i hate it. and i love it.