I remember the kiss of spring grasses growing from under the snow and the new wind turning warmer as the sun touches you like a lover watching a bird soar and hover snow melting from around their cover each a sign that Winter must go and even birds are but want to sing
2,256 posted on 01/01/2008 2:09:47 PM PST by WayzataJOHNN
( Poetry is the jazz of words, laid down by a feeling soul.)