Of Spring

The poetry of spring grated on him a little the same way cheerleaders did. Kicking her legs up waving flowers like pastel pompoms from every other bush and tree while the birds trilled off their series of featherbrained chants. An aggravating display of rah-rah frivolity. Summer had been in this game for years and had no earthly use for that kind of ridiculous encouragement thank you very much, and neither did he.

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One response to “Of Spring

  • Anon

    The poetry of a Giggle
    The poetry of a Giggle was born when an alchemist saw that the wispy breaths of a child, the labored puffs of a steam engine and the silvery ringing of a bicycle bell could become something altogether magical. The poetry of a silent joke she remembers while washing dishes which soon erupts in a cascade of uneven, unruly chuckling. Two women shelling peas with an air of hostility when the masks they are wearing fall off suddenly with a Giggle‘s push. Her niece actually *showed* her the elusive Giggle the other day. It is a playful multicolored bubble which bounces everywhere – on the lawn-sofa-bookshelf-carpet-grandfathersnose and stops exactly when it wishes,with a pop. And like the pointy-hatted clown at the childrens hospital, it wags its finger and tells her – ” The Giggles will always find a way to catch you , even on the Saddest of Sad Days”.

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