Autumn
like the middle child
is neither hot or cold
yet is caught between two seasons
who loathe one another yet one cannot exist without the other.
When it is Autumn’s turn to shine
Winter exhales it’s frosty breath,
and Summer in return withdraws its warmth
leaving Autumn alone in the middle
unable to complain
with Spring inside the belly of Mother Nature
waiting to show off as a new born heralding a New Year.
‹ Duality
Eyes ›
Categories: My thoughts, Poetry
This is beautiful!
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Thank you for your kind words.
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It’s a pleasure.
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