Brown . . . . . to Green

Brown . . . . to Green

I like spring because the gooshy mud,

Nice cool breeze,

Bird calls in my ear.

What a wonderful song they sing!

Oh, the smell of fresh dirt!

 

The flowers grow,

The green overtakes,

The brown dies away.

The water starts to trickle as the stream wakes up.

The birds  tweet

As the baseball players’ hearts beat!

 

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