Like cotton candy, broken in bits,
spores float down, riding the air;
looking like snow flurries swirling,
I slow and stop and simply stare.
From giant cottonwoods they fall.
from a nest, a heron pays no mind;
the shade where I walk is pleasant,
utter solitude is what I find.
Spring-time kisses the morning sun,
earth's special, in this leafy place;
my early daytime walk and ramble,
pastes a smile up on my face.
To be alive and mostly healthy,
is quite enough for any man;
but today's reward is special,
from the woodlands where I stand.
White feathers in the gentle wind,
seeds come softly, floating down;
dots the landscape where I walk,
five miles from any town.
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Comments about this poem (Special day by David Lessard )
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