REALITY?: Spring Urges

To feel the warm earth in my fingers, to smell it.  To push the muscles past the point of pain in preparation of a garden.  To gauge the blossoms on the branches and trim the laggers.  To sit with paper and a pencil drawing out the lines of rows and printing names of vegetables and herbs and yes, the dahlias and other pick-for-huge-bouquet flowers to cheer the rooms.

The heart is tugged in one direction, the mind in just the opposite other.  The coolness feels like fall.

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