Okay more spring stuff.
It is wonderful to remember the first recollection of spring in nature and as memory.
Thus another sonnet:
My First Spring
In my mind I can recreate the breeze
That gathered me and took me into Spring
While the snow melted after the last freeze
And my life as a boy was beginning.
Out the kitchen door, still eating something,
Late and half running as I pulled the books
On to my back and headed down hill, being
For the first time the product of my looks.
How could life have become so inviting?
How could the world warm with the thoughts of girls?
How could the clock of a planet spinning
Harmonize with these two so perfect worlds?
Odd how I can create that breeze today
And that boy comes alive in yesterday.
