Dew
laden sunshine
The
perfume of honeysuckle
And
you’re still yawning
Raindrops
Running
down the window
Southwards
Early
morning sun
Poking
through the shutters
And
the robin sings
Sudden
frost
The
violet crocus
In
decay now
Heavy
clouds
Flowers
dip their heads
Commuters,
too
A
heavy morning
Meadow
in grayish green
Blackbirds
still asleep
One
cicada
Keeps
singin’ in the rain
No
dance, though
A
softer breeze
Flowers
blooming again and
Silence
vanishes
Sky
in pastel
The
air feels wintry still
But
birds twitter spring
.
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