cinnamon

With every degree that goes up so goes my longing. 

For water, for the breeze

For the salt.

With every blossom that perfumes I feel their colors.

Pink, blue and red, all cleaning up

The Grey mess.

With every ray the sun shines, my soul burns

In exasperation, in wanting

In warmth.

With every step on green grass I can spy the birds

I hear the music and I feel alive.

With every fresh breath I breath

I am curious to see where each day 

This season will bring me.

With every note of every song 

I remember that this summer I am free

And you are not around 

to kill me.