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Spring in New England is a matter of opinion.

And so I sit further from my children;

Seeking the warmth of sunshine

Removes me from the shaded playground;

Grants perspective.

For they who had been so rough,

Guide small strangers down scary slides

With unaccustomed tenderness.

Other mothers comment

on my perfect children

And I mix laughter with awe

That perhaps I have done something right.

To seek the sunlight

Can be to find the vision

Hidden by familiarity.