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.
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! ☀️?