A river stretches,
blanketed by fog.
Rolling hills, white,
floating in the air.
The morning sun,
caught, in the mist.
Clouds, and blue.
Rain, in showers.
The water is still,
with little wind.
The tiniest bit,
of early spring.
With it, rebirth.
I welcome it.
Poetry
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Simple and beautiful. Another graceful poem. Love the punctuation placement.
Thank you!