Hope Springs

Took a quick spin in her Mustang
She loved the breeze combing through her hair
She felt the freeze more than yesterday
Like a tiger jumps a hill she sprang
Twas a time that she would cherish rare
She’d remininherisce and think “Sometimes I’m there”
Straighter with the bindings in the road
No one really knows but hope she springs
Never ever did she cut her hair
Cascading downward with a touch of flair
Floating farer in her Mustang wind
Trusting corners that were cut with care-

Kelly S Griswold August, 2013

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