Of Your Seasons To my wife, worried about age… There’s beauty in the change of seasons. Patrick Connors Seasons visit you, quietly. Flowers you have planted bloom and eventually fade with the cycles; but you are always blossoming. Winter has generously frozen time in your flesh. Spring becomes you. Wilted flowers tremble back to life murmuring about pollen and sunlight as you spread your wings and take flight merging with a rainbow. Summer brings tides of heat, it comes nude, like you tiptoeing out of the shower into our bedroom, allowing me a peek at your eternity. Autumn comes, silently. Dry leaves dance onto the soil that welcomes them. It is your feast now: You let your towel fall from your hand, like leaves… … I kneel to pick it up and you make me Knight of your seasons.
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