A springtime breeze
During harsh winter
Teases just enough for
birds to fly home
a hint of sugar plum
yet brownie sticks to me
I am haunted by
past, present, future
greeted by an old friend
insomnia
Run, child, back to the
imaginative summers
brownie still sticks to me
maybe it always will be
but we can only hope, dream,
for sugar plum
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