A whispering breeze rolls through
a quiet neighbourhood.
A chord giggles from the rooftops
of a busy downtown.
All is gone...
All is vacant...
With nothing but a Blank canvas
left to paint.
And so, joy emerges
like the scent of a fresh jar of Nutella.
The sun shines on the shingles
of baby-blue buildings.
one cane's length.
Jolly tunes that put
One Foot in front of the other.
The heat of exotic afghan desert
kushes the spring gales.
All the while breakfast ham grilles
on a stove from Berlin.
Once a year we spring into Spring
and saddly as days go by, spring will have sprung.