The newness of things
gone away for a while,
the freshness of spring
when the sun starts to smile.
There is not much that is better
than rolling up the sleeves of my sweater
in the middle of winter.
I walk past the mailbox and grin,
then leap up the large steps to my apartment,
one hop-step for each,
and plan to take a stroll real soon.
The Opportunistic Poet 