That touch is like a soft breeze
That breathes at the end of winter;
That hand is cool like evening
After a hot day sun.
I’d bathe in it if I were fish
Or even a duckling may be,
But a bird as I am, I need the sky,
The pond is too small for me.
But I’ll dip at times to wet my eyes
When the sun is too hot for me
And I’ll touch your warmth
And feel the breeze when winter’s stormy.
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