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2018

i watched the whole world bloom into colour,
one season into another
looming lavender skies promised me thunder
springtime on the edge of the mountain.

then the days, growing softer and slower,
one season into another
humid evenings and wildflower honey,
like sticky-sweet accents, all foreign to me.

the last golden sigh of summer,
one season into another
a slow exhaling september
the last of the sunflowers bow their heads.

we pierce the darkest days of winter,
one season into another
holly, mistletoe, frost in the garden
then stained glass, then snowdrops, then soon enough spring.

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