Spring is Plaguing Me

I sit, needing to grade, but unable to focus. Piles and piles of printed essays scorn and taunt me, but my mind refuses to listen. My conscience does a little dance trying to get my attention, but I am lost.

Tomorrow. Will I find my way then? Will the grading be done? Will I care?

And outside the warmth beckons with the sunny siren song; the greenery erupting in the reaching arms of the trees whispering soothingly through the breeze. Thoughts flutter and ideas bounce close and then fade into the recesses of my mind.

The blooming hillsides distract me; they draw me from my path of productivity.

All remains undone.