A Change of Season
Spring, like autumn, brings
Changes to the air;
Cold stil bites one sharply,
But pleasanter and clear.
No regard 'ny more
For chill nipping frost,
Such things come to nothing
'Fore flowers and are lost.
The days arise 'neath
A cerulean sky,
Old southern winds die with
A voluntary sigh.
And a lark lingers
Where black clouds once were,
Rejoicing with every
Wing-beat the springtime stir.
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