A Cold, Cold Spring
A cold, cold wintered weathered spring,
Each sweatshirt worn; (I wear them out),
Yet, barefoot now; my toes all zing,
I walk with zest, and have no doubt.
It’s Spring! It’s Spring!
Thank God it’s Spring!
The snows now melt; no time to pout,
For purples, orange and reds now sing,
It is our time to scream and shout!
Peter Lowell Paulson
May 20, 2014
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