Some Nights

It's days like today.
Where you feel good about not wearing a jacket.
But it's still a bit cold, so your upper arms get all goosebumpy.

It's days like today.
Where you get in your car.
You've got a massive headache, but nothing you're not used to.

It's days like today.
Where the car gets so hot that you can see the heat waves escaping as you open the door.
You get in, turn the radio on.
It's Katy Perry. Not your favorite, but it makes you wanna dance.
So 99.5, it is.

It's days like today.
You sit in the driver's seat.
Ever more aware of how short you are; there's less than 8 inches between you and the steering wheel.
(Should that be illegal?)

It's days like today.
You let the creamy air heat sink into your bones.
Your bones that have just began thawing from the longer-than-usual-but-just-as-bipolar Utah winter.

It's days like today.
Your body remembers what it's like to feel warm.
Maybe the world isn't so bad.
Maybe it's not as gray as you thought.

The sunflowers seem to agree.