pile of dirt about a story high
when wind blows thick dust fly
and when it rain, mud flows by
it��s been there for a long time
birds bring seeds, children climb
i watch them on my break time
recently i notice it��s turning green
no dust flying nor mud flowing
children are back to school again
blanket of tiny buds start to bloom
waving as if i��m one of their own
i went closer to touch, too feel
absolutely beautiful, daffodil��s hill
i took a picture, keep it in my mind
i trace smooth ridges, that of feline
i saw you up there against rising sun
hair flowing, silk blowing, waving hand
ooh! slowly fading away one more time
then i heard ringing, four season chime.
�� lol did you follow it, read it one more
time. come on �� will you. thanks. ��.md