The poem about Spring… and DEATH.

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My fun good morning poem:
Every spring I feel like i am dying

Every spring I feel like I am dying.
My eyes water and weep at the sight of fresh blossomy flower.
My throat catches at any time of day, and I can’t help but wheeze and whine.
I constantly need a tissue: for my frustration and frailty shine through in such a way.
I shrink from open windows.
I shriek at cut grass.
I steal away from the outside air.
I rail against the humming Gardner.
I rage against the immune bunch.
And I rage against the fowl pollen producers.

What? You thought I actually thought I was dying?
Good guess but thanks for trying.


A young woman and her camera by Bellarose Photography

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A young woman and her camera by Bellarose Photography

I love this picture because for as much as you would like to focus on the beautiful young woman you focus on the things around her. You see she is outlined by beautiful nature, you see her ‘old fashioned camera’, it is a photo that reminds you of the beauty in antiquity and simplicity of nature.