The snow has melted.
Green dots the meadow.
Late afternoon walks
Capture me and my shadow.
As the trail turns
I pass by the bog;
New glimpses of life
Must be 50 pollywogs.
New flowers are blooming
As I gather their scent.
This is the way
An afternoon should be spent.
I catch sight of a hawk
Soaring high above.
Nature once again provides
Her Gift of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem