The smell of spring was pungent
It was sweet, but with a kick
It yelled that it was here
it made the bees sing
I made my way barefoot
across the soft grass
and I sat by the creek
In my mind I was wearing
a dress with a fairy-like quality
and a crown of leaves
The air was cleaner
The waters ran deep
Far away from reality
Somewhere imaginary
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Poetry Books: Identity Crisis, Rehab
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