love like spring comes on gently, in spikes of green and serenades of birdsong...but when it can’t last, it ends abruptly like winter - where frost has the final word, altering layers of flowing fronds and turning the world into ice.
lost in the frolic of May, you think it may last forever.
but winter knocks with white knuckles on the back door.
with the world cold and horizons bleak, trees bare and frost-bit blades-
can you close your eyes and feel the burst of spring, memories of stolen kisses, warm breezes that lull you into thinking it will never end?
like tangerine poppies on st. mary’s lane, summer refuses to be forgotten...the same of the boy who waits in a smelly stairwell for a chance at the girl who has lost her way...a boy who endures the deep frost of her brokenness. . . the one who sticks when the others retreat from the cold.
i lay myself bare like the winter’s trees - no pretense or camouflage.
this is who i am - raw and unrefined.
roots delving ever deeper where frost can’t buckle and icy winds can’t destroy.
the God of the seasons forgives and forgets, thaws and renews - and sustains hope of spring.
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