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What are you,

strange little miracle,

that pushes its head from the hard ground

into the icy air

defying the frost of autumn

 

What are you,

creature of earth and life,

uncurling like one awaking

from the deepest of dreams

yawning like a baby

 

What are you,

funny tickling being,

green and gold and glowing

with starlight and moonbeams

even though the sun is up

 

What are you,

strange little miracle,

and what is it about you

that seems so familiar—

like a memory of spring 

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