Smell of freshness of Spring Pointing upwards,
That of heavenly heavens pointing towards the sky above,
Greens and Whites of the seasons,
Such as nothing to stop it,
The feeling of being alive,
Pines, Needles and all Live.
Such that I feel that spring is not just of Pine,
Of cheap bunks of IKEA and you know what,
For it reminds me of how much I miss that smell,
That brought me much joy, not just being a Lone One.
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