Its when

you find yourself
clutching to some loose leaf,
your swinging hair catching on your nose,
you're not wearing socks inside your black sneakers
as you dash across the slushy potholes
On the corners of two streets
Up to your driveway,
where the christmas lights still flicker on
and off,
You're not wearing a scarf under your faux-fur jacket
when the orange glow from the houses
is nothing compared to the moon's casted blue shadows
silhouetting your every hurried step

that you realize
this february it feels more like march

and everything seems simple again