Spring Morning

I step outside.

It's a chilly morning in March

And the wind bites at my bare arms

Like a lion to it's prey.

My goose bumps tingle,

and I rub my arms for warmth.

This is my favorite kind of weather --

A spring morning,

When I can sit on the bench

The warm sun watching over me

Like I was it's daughter.

When I can think about things

In silence.

I don't have to worry about anything;

Just nature and me

Sitting together

On a spring morning.

The End

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