Cold Spring Morning

Cold Spring Morning

Cold Spring morning,

Cold Spring breeze,

I freeze,

The trees are flush with birds.

White flowers dot the hillside,

A mallard and mate saunter by,

They test each fallen seed,

The sun hides his face behind a cloud laden sky,

And, I,

With freezing fingers fumbling,

Furtively smile,

Alone, but not unwanted,

So happy,

To be alive!

Peter L. Paulson

May 20, 2015