Spring is coming,
the birds have said it.
The flowers believe.
The air is warm and smooth and ready,
To breath in deep and live,
In our lungs old or young.
Tired of cold feet,
Ready for warm water, crisp and neat,
And sand between my toes.
The spring is fleet and summer approaches,
as winter retreats.
Dazzle our eyes in the Florida sunshine,
As cold air still drifts north,
and waits again.