What the light does in March

In March the light comes back the way a person comes back to a room they left in anger. Cautious. Sideways. Not making eye contact.

The first morning I noticed it I was making coffee and I had to stop and put both hands on the counter and look at the floor where a strip of yellow had landed near the leg of the chair. I had not seen that strip of yellow in four months. It had been waiting.

I did not cry. I cried the next morning, smaller, more economical, while the kettle was on. The light came in again at the same angle. I let it. It is the kind of forgiveness I can take in March.