Meandering

I followed paths, meandering
And noting all the joys of spring –
The trees in blossom, bright green grass,
All seen without a pane of glass
Preventing me from such a treat –
The scent of flowers, soft and sweet.

This all took place in early morn
Beyond my walk, for I was torn
With wanting to remain outside
Or following the stay-in guide.
My compromise – some extra time,
Not yet considered as a crime.

The park was empty, so I heard
The chirp and twitter of each bird.
I breathed in deep without my mask,
Nobody taking me to task.
At last, fulfilled, I headed home,
Content enough to write my poem.