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Spring
The sun paints my hair a brighter shade of dirty blond.
And a darker tone of skin.
The scent of flowers enter my nose.
Along with the smell of the light wind that blows in my face.
My eyes turn lighter as they regrow the forest like colors.
And see the buds bloom from the womb of their mothers.
But as the weather get hotter,
I continue to wear my casual clothing:
T-shirt, jeans and sneaker.
And I don’t grow thirsty either.
Days grow longer.
Nights shrink shorter.
It’s harder to sleep in with the bright light disturbing your rest.
But we still try anyway.
Not only bears, squirrels, and bees come out from a long winter’s nap,
But so do the human beings crawl out of their homes.
Picnics in the parks.
Playing catch in the backyards.
Catching flying butterflies.
And counting down to smaller numbers ‘til the last day of school.
Spring.
The younger still of cold winter.
And the old mother of hot summer.
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