In the pixel-light of early March, the city thaws like a slow computer, its grayness buffering into green.
Pavements sprout people, no longer bundled, flaunting bare wrists and ankles as if freed from their own parentheses.
The parks reboot, rendering grass in high definition, the kind you can almost feel tickling your palms.
Sunlight lingers, a cursor blinking later into the evening, prompting us to write our plans outside the lines.
Café chairs clatter open like pop-up ads, promising fresh air with your coffee, and the buzz of conversation over code.
Blossoms gather on once barren branches, a glitch in the system that welcomes a crash of petals, pink and white against the cityscape.
Each breeze carries a pop-up notification, reminding us to update our lives— winter’s drear swapped for spring’s wallpaper,
And we, too eager to click accept, update our smiles, step into the renewal, let the season load us into its vibrant new scene.
JH
Artwork By Julan
Julan62 