Billowing, bounding, bumping,
through a cracked, white door
a bouncy, fluffy, white puppy flies.

The ground is soaked, saturated.
From the ever melting snow.
Water rises, water falls,
with a step upon the grass.

The breeze blows cold, shivering,
Stings my face in welcome.
It should be so, I think to myself.
The snow is melting still.

The puppy barks, sharp and clear,
but I bear no notice there.
For on the wind, there's something strange.
A smell that's out of place.

It makes me miss the summer sun,
It makes me miss the green.
Miss the sound of a rushing stream,
and a cloudless, sky of blue.

A smell so strange, I chase it,
As it whips away with the wind.
It stops me at the glaring gate,
And laughs in a freeing voice.

Come back! I wish it,
But in vain, I smell it nevermore,
I miss the smell as it's gone,
Flower petals mixed with rain.