O, how the sun does love us.
I had a breeze exploring my curls navigating trees and making this beautiful sound.
My steed, a seven speed, bike brought me to a
tain r p e o c where c r k ia fo te
I was ten again. I felt the warm of cement, I smelt the earth of Los Angeles fields, I heard the ring of birds in a time vacuum the same birds when I was ten witnessed our sports witnessed our swimming didn't judge but were.
I slowly was wrapped in childhood, when the things I feared existed in the present not in the future
when everything was so simple and beautiful and that chlorine sting in my eyes after a swim was gentle and buzzed some signal that rang possibility.
A simple summer day in winter reminded me I am who I was I will be who I am and that still summer air still makes us free.
Toscher is an advertising and finance senior.
Editor's note: This poem is a reflection on the unusually nice and warm weather Austin experienced on Feb. 25. As Toscher puts it, "the energy [Monday] was strong, and I would like to share my love [poem] with the fellow students."
