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The whispers of wind

caress my face

with the tips of my fingers,

I trace

little buds of a daffodil

beam up at me

like rays of sun,

so much glee

with a smooth twist of fingers

the sound of a snap,

it lingers

in the palm of hands

it's body lays

lifeless, so frail

the sweet scent flows

running through my nose

spring is fading

the peace decaying

goodbye little friend

your time,

has reached an end.

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