The landscape is melting and the sun is sitting higher in the sky.
Winter's wake is nearing the exit, one snow-capped foot out the door.
The city is shedding its gloomy hue, the treasured jewel of central enterprise awash in new light.
In the distance, a muted tape deck releases its pause button. Buds await their chlorophyll. Robins seem to multiply, dotting lawns and lampposts with heightened verse.
One can almost hear the wisp of a shuttlecock, a steady rhythm in the midst of laughter.