Springtime Melt

All the treasures, the earth had stolen
Beneath the winters snow
Out of reach, to bend beneath
A pocket full, below
The scrapper in me won out, big time
Eye long, with the song of the crow
A fetching beak, of shiny coins
Jingling nest, of art nouveau
For all my friends, at springtime melt
The walks and sparkling views
Are pleasant jaunts, sustainers bright
In these times, I think of you

By Kelly Sampson Griswold

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