Yellow Sweater

United States

Zinnia | she/her | lesbian | agnostic | 18 | WA

2021-2022 Seattle Youth Poet Laureate

Elitist Atlantic Subscriber (jk, but I do think the Atlantic does some awsome journalism)

I don't necessarily agree with my own assertions

Message to Readers

This one is not my favorite... I would love your advice on how to make it better though!

Surrendering to Spring

July 22, 2021

PROMPT: July Grab Bag


I've always hated spring. I hate how it reminds me of death. It's too wet. There is too much pollen in the air. When the ground softens, I know deep in my heart that the world is going to have to make room for all that new growth. 

The year was 1937 and some folks from the WPA had come by to install electricity at my Tennessee farm, but I’d waved them away. What was the point of life without fire?  One sultry spring dusk, I pulled on my boots and lit a gas lamp, walking down to the river. I carried a piece of paper in my jacket pocket. The air was thick with that sweet fragrance of fornication. I wobbled forward on my two bad legs until I finally reached the banks. 

I wanted to go on an adventure, or maybe hook myself up to the grid. I wanted to cross to the other bank, but the Mississippi was too wide. I was angry, and I was in pain, and I stubbornly hated spring. So I threw my lamp onto the grass and tossed the document into the fire. I stood there in sour contentment, watching as the last will and testament of Alfred Donnel burned. 

The paper crumbled into grey ash and the muddy earth swallowed the flames, but I laughed.

I'm not going to surrender to spring.
  • a story that centers on a flame going out. (Elodie Hart


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