addictus

tis a Scandinavian new year in partibus infidelium

its landscape shoots bloom accordingly

the greennary flourishes about

perhaps accustomed to it

nothing like new leaves on a tree branch

no matter the light of day

its freshness and vibrancy glow

they know they are anew

the fresh leaves’ hues

care nary for the high grey clouds

nor the green grass shoots care much neither

of the hunting birds runnning, chasing earthworm noises

they glow with splendour

be it shiny daylight or gray cumulus light

nor it allows the wind to take center stage, tis its time

to be

and I am addicted to it – I yearn it