Spring in the blood

It's the first real spring day. The wool coat gets retired to the back of the closet, the sun shines down. People everywhere take their breaks outside. Here at the campus, there are kids playing hackey sack, a young girl juggling. People smile, greeting those they have not seen in months, or at least recognized under the bulk of winter coats and hoods. We talk about flying kites and lying lazily in the sun. I think about coffee on the patio, frisbee in the street. Women start to roll back their turtlenecks and show some actual neck. Men start to spin their heads towards pale legs peeking out from skirts, feeling the soreness of neck muscles not used in months. There is that almost tangible sense of possibility as you bound over benches and barriers, fist punching the sky, as the world shakes the sleep from its bloodshot eyes and looks to the sun.