Friday, June 3, 2005

Spring is Out

The spring is out of me -- no more spring-green things to say.

The bluebonnets are brown, and their seeds have sprung to far-flung places. The creek is drying up, foot by foot, day by hot day. The shade beckons in the afternoon as the sun beats down above.

The air is thick and hot outside. The city lies hidden in its miasma in the morning. And evening walks thru it leave you sweating and sapped of all strength.

The spring is out of me. Summer is here. We should go swimming on Sunday.


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