The trees have shed the snow that sleeps on their branches,
and the rivers are starting to crack.
The wings of the geese are once again heard in the distance,
and icicles are creating puddles on my front porch.
I'm packing up my winter gear and saving my galoshes for next
December.
The Sun is once again peeking behind locks of cirus clouds.
Sofly kissing my cheeks and nose.
My back is warm, my toes are wet, and I finally remeber the smell of, "green."
As the Sun soons sets, the smell of a campfire cozies my lungs.
And I think I forgot how bright stars could shine, until now.
Polaroids snip snap click and clack as I gather and scrunch up with two friends to get the perfect scrapbook shot.
Burnt smores and belly laughes fill the air until we all pass out- and do it all again.
hope.