When the first rays of her sunlight fingers,
Brushed against my frozen hands,
I felt blushing roses on my cheeks.
Gardens growing in her flirting streaks.
I felt her loving Spring thaw the ice,
Grass sprouting from forgotten wounds,
I felt old butterflies fluttering again,
In my stomach, as feelings bloomed.
These feelings flared in hurricane flames,
As passion fueled these embers,
Summer lights burn the green off grass,
As wildfires burn us tender.
She saw my darkness in these beams,
And her feelings refused to stay,
Like colors on once evergreen leaves,
As Autumn steals them away.
I thought I’d remain unmoving and firm,
Like trees that duel blizzard anger,
But I was torn from her open branches,
Like the last few frozen leaves,
Succumbing to Winter’s answer.
By Sharaf Momen