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Beauty in Transition

A poem exploring the seasons.



I’m listening to sky

As colors paint across clouds, blurring

The boundaries of spaces between. The gaps

Between my thoughts grow as I transition

Into feeling. My heart is asking,

“Can anyone else smell the seasons?”

Sometimes it’s seeing the tabebuia trees; other times

It’s the smell of fresh earth. Spring is a wet and warm invitation

To dance. A reminder of birth, and that living

Doesn’t always mean alive. I love

The things that are so predictably good in this world.

Forgetting isn’t bad,

Like taking for granted. How can one ever feel alone? Oblivious,

Maybe. Like the nostalgia of summer, gone

Just long enough for you to forget— a long lost love

Letter, leading you back to light as days grow.

And just like you are temporary, the leaves will

Fall, creating space for air to blow you

Kisses. The sound of wind tastes like honey, and

We all want hands to hold. It never mattered to me

What we were celebrating; I only wanted to feel

Like a present being opened up for the first time.


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