if you ask me to edit an edit
i will suggest that you forget it
because i can tell you that i already have.

at edge of the forest, among the evergreens,
even weeds wear a shade of green that begs to be called growth.


wrapped in cloth, emerald stone,
the wind whistles through my hair
my breath is stolen along the breeze.

I would like to stick my nose into a book,
breathe deep, and inhale all of the words.
They will nestle within the swirl of my brain
and find a place to flourish and call home.

Tendrils snake upwards hugging my bones, creating a throne inside me.
I call this Spring.
Budding and blossoming, I reach for the watering can within my soul, and I feel warm.
I lean forward and breathe in deep.
I think I see the sun, I think I taste oregano on the tip of my tongue.
I think I will sit, stay a while, grow.