When I reminisce about Spring,

I think of fresh, wet, and lime-green sprigs of grass.

My heart grows warmer as flowers bloom within my heart, creating the spring hearth I bear.

I wish to flow and fly through the meadows holding hands with Spring.

I wish to meet the mermaids in the locked-away lagoons of Spring,

I wish to meet the giddy grasshoppers on adventures looking for food,

I wish to meet the spiteful songbirds that seep from branch to branch,

and I wish to meet the chartreuse lily pads that home many hidden creatures.

For they are fond of their home they have laid in.

My eyes lay upon the piles of dirt where insects leave their homes—their makeshift homes that could crumble with a step of a human. 

I yearn to soar with the birds,

I stride to swim with the salmon,

I glide to run and ride with the foxes,

I hop along with the bunnies.

But, for now, I shall stay inside my makeshift home—my forever home now.