smells like when
the boys were small,
the sweetness of souls virgin
and raucous on jungle gyms;
shadows of carefree joy against the gray
blue of incoming spring. The warm evening
a winter reprieve, light on the far
western horizon, the V of a threesome
of geese searching for a soft place
to land and live and be.
who am I to grieve the waning days
when winter gives way to such
glory of spring
and beginnings
once
again.
Love it! Yes each season has its downside yet heralds a new time we are looking forward to.
Carol Lee
Sent from my iPhone
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