The aroma coats the entire room
like a thick blanket
covering the minds that we’ve left naked.
Flowers bloom and birds begin to sing
as the winter musk fades away
and we await what spring might be.
We can taste it in the air.
We can see it written on the leaves
and hear it ringing everywhere.
We can almost touch the clouds
because they feel so near
telling their tall takes and fables
about stables and love to all around.
Their stories so light
they never touch the ground.
They’re not stable enough
that’s why you’ll often catch them down
with frowns on their faces.
Creating mazes in the minds that we’ve left naked.