Every thought
A puddle that clouds your mind
To roll in like a playful child
Sometimes long enough
You mull
To be shrouded by
Sooner or later you dust it off
And lay it down
To be puddled by new
Growths of green
Colour of a faded lime
Not long enough
A forest never enough
There is winters and summers
Seasons of all
There is always, spring
To fall upon