Blossom reminds a suburban street that it’s stirring after a long winter sleep. The heater is off and the sunglasses are on. Just when you think you can’t handle it any longer—something gives:
The temperature climbs,
You’re blinded by inspiration,
The cold blocks dissipate,
You’re hot again.
Get those fingers moving: type, write.
Wake your words from slumber.
Spring blossom - the poet's alarm clock.
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