Zoom goes past a butterfly,
I hear the wind, hard on my face, blow.
I watch grass shoot up from the ground,
I see the leaves, with a hidden glow.
The last traces of winter clears,
And the spring laughingly shows.
Spring
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Zoom goes past a butterfly,
I hear the wind, hard on my face, blow.
I watch grass shoot up from the ground,
I see the leaves, with a hidden glow.
The last traces of winter clears,
And the spring laughingly shows.