Farewell To Bliss

My winter’s slumber
Ripped asunder
By the busy noise of spring,
I rise
From tranquility’s bed
And sigh a fond farewell
To those soft patterings
On closed windows.
Even birds fail to be discreet
As I find my feet.
‘Tis only a season I know,
But for the laziest of reasons
Of all the seasons
My bliss is in
The quietude of snow.

by Carolyn Brunelle

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