Flee, February, Flee!

I need grass
and green leaves
and a warm, gentle
breeze,
I need to see
a bumblebee
on a wildflower
slowly sipping
sustenance,
I need to see baby ducks
following their mama
amidst the ripples
near the shore,
and squirrels scampering
hither and yon
for breadcrumbs,
chasing each other
up and down trees
full of buds,
I need to smell raw earth
feel it between my fingers,
sit under a tree
rough bark against
my spine,
flee frigid February
run away from cold grey
ground and sky
sit under the big pines
and hear my morning birds
celebrate the sun.