The Coming of Spring

The winter snow crunches under our feet,
Showing to all the path we have taken.
Over the hills, the morning sun does greet
The frosty breath that our mouth are makin’.
We made it to the muddy fields outside
The bird whose wings will fly us to our home.
Though the seeds on buds in the soil still hide,
In a short time, over the grass, they’ll roam.
We finally arrive in the sun’s land
And we shed the clothes we had worn this day.
The moon shines on the waves hitting the sand,
Licking the bare soles of our feet in play.
It just takes the rotation of the clock
To dismantle the winter’s icy stock.

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