Spring

Piles of mush, once icy white 

Now discolored and soft 

Resting on the field. 

Where is the cold fortress?

 

Dreadful moments in the snow,

Numb fingers and a red face.

I was longing for warmth.

That was when the sun came. 

 

Looking at the mush I wonder

Why was it hard to say goodbye? 

The snow strengthen me

Taught me how to survive.

 

The meadows are green, 

Music of birds filling the air 

Water seeps into the soil,

Flowers blossom again.

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