Henry Davidson


The warm sun filters through the window into my room,
Where the light awakens me from my deep slumber.

I step outside into the fourth day of spring- my favorite season,
I smell the scent of buds that have fallen on the ground.
The bright sun begins to warm my face.
It is a warm day, perfect for the outdoors.

I get my skateboard and go down the hill,
Quickly passing trees growing back their leaves.
The wind mixes with the sun to make
a mélange of warm and cold.
The perfect springtime day.

As I continue down the hill, now turning onto other streets
I can feel the grit of the pavement,
traveling through my skateboard and up through my legs.

I look around as I bask in the glory of springtime,
Vigilant as a bird-watcher.
I notice a family out for a late morning walk
A father and a mother walking behind two kids,
running and laughing in the joy of springtime.

As I reach the bottom of the hill,
I am overcome by a wave of life.
Plants and people have become lively again,
Flowers blooming and bikers zooming.
Everyone is enjoying the beautiful weather.
There is no time better than springtime.


Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.