Spring.
That time of year
when things are renewed
by losing the old.
The winter fur
comes off
at surprising rates.
But when I am eating
and its a hair I find,
why is it mine?
Spring.
That time of year
when things are renewed
by losing the old.
The winter fur
comes off
at surprising rates.
But when I am eating
and its a hair I find,
why is it mine?
Saturn's Premier Poet 