I can describe yesterday morning

With only one word

-Perfection

(Most likely due to the weather)

When you're just getting used to the 20 degree torture,

If it's actually possible to get used to,

And you wake up to 60 degrees

It's a kind of torture in and of itself

-Knowing it won't last very long, I guess

I had opened the window in my room the night before

So that morning the birds were kind enough to wake me

-Before the obnoxious sound of my alarm

On a normal winter day I'd try to sleep a few minutes more

But it was obvious, by the smell drifting through my window,

That this was not winter

You know that smell of spring; I'm not sure what it is

And I'm still not sure if it's even a good smell

But it's that smell that makes you feel something,

Something you can't really describe

It's somethig that's familiar and comforting

And exciting and optimistic all at once

Well anyways,

I've been frequenting the Panera in Canton lately

It's one of those revamped warehouses

With brick walls and a view of the harbor

And that's perfect enough for me

But adding in perfect weather

Was almost too much to handle

That I couldn't help but smile when I walked out the door

So, Bob Marley and I made our way down Boston Street

I bought a bagel and he sang to me

While I enjoyed the company of strangers

Who didn't really feel like strangers at all