Sweetest spring

I love these sweet spring mornings.

Alone, bathing in nature’s quiet serenity.

The lull of a lazy half hour before the house arises, before the walls fill with the hum of daily life.

I sit in the sweet spot, the brick step poised between the wild flowers.

Forget me nots sprouting up uninvited, through the cracks between my feet.

My hair ripples side to side sweeping my shoulders in warm soft breezes.

Bird song washes over me, cascading and tripping like a waterfall upon my ear.

I bask in the low slung yellow of a waking sun, like a cat arching it’s back, feeling the warmth of its caress upon my face.

A morning kiss, a breath of fresh air, another sweet spring morning.