deepundergroundpoetry.com

Really old poem. written in the sixth grade... don't hate :p

Spring

The American Flag flapping in the breeze
tastes like clean air rushing through to capture
the winter, to welcome Spring...

The fresh earth slowly coming, slowly making way
feels like uncooked meatloaf between my
fingers in Spring...

The wet earth starting to crack, slowly drying
smells like cotton candy between the
red lips of Spring...

The wind blowing in my face
sounds like birds chirping
in my ear in Spring...
Written by nindeewhotte
Published
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