dear chirping birds, they sing
as i devour delicate yellowing pages
of forgotten stories, french films and sweet
lattes of caramel, of chai, of gingerbread. . .
the occasional sighs of wind comb through,
and they bring aromas of earth and of
flowers; spring is exquisite,
it is truly, so very lovely
as are you, you
and you
♥
1 comment:
beautiful poem!
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