Before I can travel to the new week. I must wonder, and bask in the melting snow of the old week.
My week was drawn in pastels. The spring weather has blossomed, and the sweat of my brow is dripping by the heat. When spring begins, so grows my inner teddy. I feel plush and stuffed with soft material. Wanting to hug the unloved dirt, and sleep beside the bark of trees. I sit pretty, belly full, and rich when I sit beneath a golden sun.