Monday, April 2, 2012

Springspeak

Frosty day with blossoms
inflamed, the morning sun beckons
limbs to awaken in woods barely red,
the fresh grass but starting to cover the trash,
the moss just edging the riverbed...
Yet everything now being born
wants to propagate,
the sound of discovery is the sound of love,
like beginnings are all the earth needs to be said.

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