Writing

I’m currently being serenaded by hammering from my mom’s bedroom upstairs. They're still working on that bathroom. You know, the one that was supposed to be done last month.

Well, two months ago, actually.

Pride of bovine kind

Wanderer of the mountains 

None could best a yak

Summer is just around the corner

And I can feel it.

I can feel it in the trees' blossoms under my fingertips,

Every dandelion I pick for a crown that always droops,

In how the mud sinks into my shoes,

I talked to a tree just the other day, I was walking past and it did say,  

Well, what are you? 

Just a traveler. 

But what are you? 

Why, a human, of course, you didn’t know? 

Each of you fluffy white 

clouds 

each of the shapes inspire me I look up into you 

and feel small and big at the same time

It's spring again 

It's sunny again 

It's green and flowers are taking over again

It's warm and the birds are singing again

It's spring again 

Everything is coming out of hibernation again