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Spring

The sad eyes of winter

Turned slowly

To the doe eyed

Glances of spring

 

Birds sing

Vibrant song

And flutter

Newly freed wings.

 

The light creeps

Quietly, early.

And brightens

Another new morning.

 

The step lightens

With steady pace.

Its good sometimes

To be in the human race.

◄ The Anti Shanty 2016

Freedom of the mind. ►

Comments

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victoriavautaw@gmail.com

Mon 11th Mar 2019 14:07

Yes! Spring is my favorite season. This poem makes me want to skip down the road with you! ☀️?

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