Sprummer

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How beautifully I sit, my dear

under the blooming mimosa

and not worry about asthma.

To walk lightly in spring

and not choke on the breeze,

my dear.

Just like Alice across the mirror

I glide through the summer

smelling like roses, red,

revelling in this weather

until light-headed.

Now I sing in the streets

without a care, should they stare

I sing, I skip, I hop, I dance

the grief away.

What a lovely spring,

a magical summer

this year

when you are no more

my dear.

What a lovely spring,

what a magical summer

indeed.

What a lovely time,

in Madrid.

– Karessa Ramos

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