In Fond Memory of Sid

Every spring so hard to believe the sight my eyes see when the garden springs into full bloom.

I hear the sound of the spring birds singing merrily in the apple trees.

I can touch the new grass, the dandelions so yellow

I taste the grass it is so juicy

Then I smell the bark of the tallest apple tree and scamper up to the sweet scent of the apple blossoms, at the very top I am ready to sing along with the bird choruses.