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Stuffy nose,
pounding head.
Maybe someone ought to go to bed.
But phones gonna ring,
and email is gonna sprawl,
with a stuffy nose running and head ready to fall.
Springtime sniffles don't make any sense,
with crocus blooming and sweaters hanging over the fence.
I want to soak up all the sun I can stand,
and leave spring sniffles behind me like a too-long winter that finally says... "Uncle", shrugs it's shoulders
and walks away with open empty hands.
T.L. Eastman 2011
Comments
<- has kleenex, will share!