I've Been Called Worse

The other day I saw a note here,
bemoaning the platform’s shift into the overly sentimental.
Listed among the author’s laments was
”romanticizing the seasons,”
and I thought
guilty as charged—
And thank god for it.

Look,
I remember what it’s like
to be young
and wear cynicism
as armor.

I know
that to feel deeply,
to love openly,
is a risk
we’ve been told
not to take.

But give me a better word
to describe the kiss of sunlight on skin
after so many months of iron cold clouds.

Give me a better word for the
explosion
of pink petals and birdsong,
life starting up new all over again.

Even at my youngest, disaffected best,
the world has always made me swoon.

I can’t help it.

And I hope (I think), that
secretly,
you swoon, too.