Half Past Seasons

I am not the grand display of fireworks on New Year's eve.
I am the string of lights, the centerpiece of a candlelit dinner,
the stars scattered across the lifeless sky

I am not the passion of February's kiss,
I am the gentle whisper on your ear before dawn,
the alluring hum of a precious lullaby

I am not the waves that strike a wild adventure,
I am golden sunshine etching summer on your skin,
the infinite grains of sand holding the blue, the vast

I am not the darkness of cold winter's good bye,
I am the warmth of today's smile, the welcoming embrace
of tomorrow, the only, the last

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