An Ode to the Spring.

  There has been a different smell in the air. Fragrant and full of memories. It almost feels like the real thing.

      I can't describe the sensation, which makes me understand its purity.  There is an earthy taste followed by a sense of confusion. Something white about it, white and shining. I feel like it may be attempting to communicate on a deeper level. Maybe attempting to lure me into a hole. Maybe i can't trust it. There is the possibility of threat.

     I retreat.
 I call back the army.
 I leave a note
   A perfumed scent, alarms me.
  I may not be moving.

  I may have moved my feet, but backwards.
      Where has the spring gone? Where are these memories coming from? I can't remember, i can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember.