Spring
Warm winds blow away
The last majesty of death.
The world is warmed,
And I can finally catch my breath.
The sun shines weakly
On this lonely patch of ground,
And I can almost hear birds...
What a welcome sound!
The bitter cold is now just a memory
As my wounds begin to heal.
My senses have come back to life,
And I can finally feel.
Copyright © Krissy Ward | Year Posted 2005
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