When the air finally lets go,
it whispers secrets in soft sighs
of thawing Earth and blooming hope,
where winter’s hush gently dies.
A better place, they whisper
yet, its your arms i long to embrace.
they call it heaven,
a place above,
better than the earth we love.
if heavens better,
why does my heart ache for love i can't remake?
I am great and tall,
bushy and fast,
orange with swirls of yellow and white.
I am a fox.
I run in the forest with my furry friends.
my tail bouncing,
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