Flowers are fading as winter hangs in the air,
hot chocolate in her hands and a smug smile on her face.
Trees grasp to the last of their green glimmer,
glittering lover’s tears trickling down the solid branches as another departure is dragged out,
winter’s wicked grin towers grim over autumn’s last weeks,
watching the earth wither and die.
It’s okay.
Everything will return,
just as it always does,
if I wait,
I can be here to see it.
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