Spent the last seven months
With a mouthful of dirt,
But it's all good now,
Nothing bent, nothing hurt,
As I poke my green
Limbs out of the ground,
And suck in the fumes
Of spring all around...
I'm the scion of spores
From the time of the dinosaur,
Sprouting back from the spot
I was cut-down before...
All hail the return
Of the hard-luck fern!
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