On the days before Spring comes
It is possible to make a feast 
Of the moisture carried in the air
The sogginess of the dirt and soft 
Breeze that invades and then settles
In the depth of our bellies 
Planting seedlings in everyone’s 
Metaphorical womb 
We grow wiser and then shrink to
Fit the sun blasted days to come 
Laughing sharing dreaming 
Licking clouds off a blue sky 
Too perfect to exist in our lifetimes

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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