Amidst waning patches of ice treacherous
enough to deter even the most dedicated joggers, pools of water puddle on every
available surface, while an ocean of snow slips down the storm drain in a thin
but steady stream. Chris says it is bound to get cold again, but the sunny fifty-degree weather leaves me in a comfortable state of denial. In honor of the occasion, some e. e. cummings:
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan
whistles
far
and
wee
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