Poetry

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The school calendar tells me it’s “spring;
My calendar tells me “no such thing”!
(as do morning numbness,
breath in clouds).
Nature thirsts
Some trees are bare…

Yet two are the trees
that shout out loud
“Spring’s just ahead:
no gloom allowed!”
One gaily flaunts its spears of red,
The other, first,
sends sweet perfume,
and all at once,
its purple bloom.

So despite the cold
I’ll be joyful and bold
for spring
is a state of mind.

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