Autumn Leaves

August will be closing soon

And summer slowly trails along

The humid air will soon turn dry

(Although not soon enough)

The leaves will turn and make their way

In puddles on the ground

The seasons end and this life will bend

(Although not soon enough)

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Seasonal Love

Love. Love is like the wind. Can’t see it but you can feel it. Love is like the sea. Crashing forward and ebbing away. Or is it? It seems like the seasons. Seasons twisting and weaving into each other. Each becoming indistinguishable from the other. Love is like spring time. It’s light and airy and carefree. It’s bright and shiny and new. Sprouting from the earth and branching out towards anything it can get it hands on. Love is like summer time. It’s hot and sweaty and beats down on us. It’s long days and short nights. It’s time in between and time and a half. It’s clammy palms and shining brows. Love is the like the autumn. It’s brisk and breezy and fresh. It’s red and orange and yellow and brown. It’s the calm before the storm. Love is like the winter. It’s chilly and unpredictable. It’s harsh and risky. Each day unlike the one before. It’s constantly changing and upending itself.

Love is all there is.