the grass so tender
you could eat it with
a salad fork
young pink buds trim
fragrant trees
the air smells
cleaned
brisk
scrubbed
it could be Spring
the sky is laced with tapering
white clouds
measuring the wide plain of blue
the robins have returned to sing
and make the sad grey world
right again
the winter sun is now full and
brimming
bright
one might
believe again
how it could be
Spring
Copyright 4/11/2106 All Legal Rights
Are Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells /
straight from her Tilt-a-World
all ideas/poetry/rants/prose are the
expressed legal property of this Writer
legal copyright to this work and this site title by this Author