Seasonal Love (Poem)

Enticed by the bangs of autumn,

springtime blushes.

Separated by such intense heat,

the pink leaves are no surprise.

 

 

Drifting through a

delayed breeze,

they fail to wither

despite hesitancy.

 

 

Blade of grass

and margin of dew

come together

to form turquoise hue.

 

 

If summer and winter

were so tensely bound,

ice would not rain

thunder would not sound.

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