They sit, so cheerful, on your nightstand.
You heard them the other night, when they were still closed buds in your vase, slowly crackling and giggling as they began to poke out their heads from the paper-thin coat that held them in place. One crackle. Two. Then, as if the cautious opening of the flowers was no longer enough, they burst open, all sunshine and brightness, leaving their brown husk behind.
They are the first thing to greet you in the morning--that dose of sunlight before even the sun itself is up. Big bold petals cradle their loud trumpet shaped center as if it were a fragile porcelain tea up and they, the saucer. In the center of each flower sits the furry, pollen-coated stamen perfuming your room with the sweet scent of spring.
They chase winter away, promising warmer days and flower-strewn gardens. Soon, they say, soon. Soon you will be able to pack up your winter coat and shed your winter layers. Soon you will be able to walk barefoot on the grass and picnic on fresh radishes and sprouts and berries. Soon. But until then, you have me--that bright cluster of flowers on your nightstand.
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