the Understudy

Spring knows all her lines.
Ready to bloom with nerves,
she lingers behind the curtain,
costumed in shades of green,
yellow, forsythia on the breeze.

For three acts we’ve tuned
to the gusty baritone of snow.
When Winter finally calls in sick,
tracking mud across the stage,
Spring’s aria will steal the show.

Susan asked the Real Toads to write an extended simile or metaphor.