So many people have spoken about
The winter of our discontent,
Or the summer of our ambition.

But what of
The smell of pine needles
When the earth is springing forth
With something green
And wet
And new?

What of the freshness in the air
That blows over the sea
And reminds you of
The smell of fire in the summer?

What of the way that
Everything seems brighter,
Full of light,
Almost more tangible,
At a time when change seems
Almost second nature?

I may be biased.

I may hold an opinion
Simply because every year,
When the months roll closer
To longer days
I feel like a better person;

My skin feels smoother, cleaner,
My head aches less,
And I age, but I age
With content.

So many people have disregarded
The softness of spring
And the wind it brings with it.