Seven in the morning of the first
of May already so bright in clear
blue air birds make their plans
immense. Time for our little
dog to darken the earth with her
mighty stream and then a few thimbles
of kibble. As I doze my way back
and glance at the car of the neighbor
I try to avoid
a wide disc of wood from some
unlucky loved tree on
the driver's seat.
I guess everything I
thought about the spring is wrong.
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