deepundergroundpoetry.com
On an early spring evening
The daffodils are blooming,
and the flowery white trees.
All around the branches
are baby green leaves.
I hear the ice cream truck.
The temperature
rolls in a breeze.
.
.
Wild garlic.
The early woodpecker drumming,
An evening dove,
A man fixes his fence over there,
using a yellow hammer.
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