We stood on the banks of the river and watched the geese float down river. Pink petals from the cherry tree upwind floated through the air and caught a ride on the current, continuing downstream, powdered sugar on a frosting. Ducks tutted on the rocks near us: a mother nudged awkward puffs into the water, squaking out directions like a kindergarten teacher who had spent too much time with candy-fueled kids. We watched the clouds drag across the sky, cotton candy that made our mouths water as we waited for summer to emerge from springtime, the himalayan effort of the world to pass from birth to life.

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