4.11.2107

we walk the green

grass path now

edged by the final

snow of spring,

tinkling faerie

bells tuning up as

ice drops from

branches plink plunk

into the stream,

and birds chip

chireeep into the

new sun, snaring

their hopes on a

mate not to swoon.

the dog sniffs, pauses,

swims deep into the

fecund aromas rising

to his nostrils, and we all

smile and step out,

breathing joy

into our hearts.

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