Changing Seasons

Changing Seasons
by Romina Ramos

In a city where every day is a miserable
December evening, she is July. She does to me
what summer does to strawberry fields.

She is hot coffee on a crisp autumn morning,
with each calculated sip first Ulysses then Morphos
and Monarchs form a kaleidoscope inside me.

She is spring because her laugh is a birdsong
because her eyes are soil and in me seedlings
begin to bloom. She awakens the earth in me.

And she too can be winter. Can too be an ashy sky
an umbrella with a rip, or a broken wire-arm.
But if she was rain, I would learn to dance for her.

By Romina Writes

She/Her Made In Portugal Based in Manchester, UK Bilingual BA Creative Writing @ UoB Poet/Fiction Writer/Freelance Editor Sub-editor for The Bolton Review issues 7 & 8. 'Half Moon' selected for The New Writing Showcase 2019. ‘Trouble’ and ‘If I Knew Then What I Know Now’ selected for The New Writing Showcase 2020.

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