Apricity
Inspired by the unending love my grandparents had for each other and a story of one of their winter dates.
On this cloudy winter day,
the sky is gray
and I am too.
I kick a pebble off the sidewalk
into the cold embrace of snow.
It loses its luster
when neither the sun nor you
are here to lend it beauty to reflect.
As the sun reveals itself,
I am reminded of you
and all your golden glory.
The weak sun rays dare not to compare
to the warmth that emanates from your soul
That streams from your fingertips
every time we touch
Warming me until I fear I might die from
the overwhelming expansion of light and love
inside me.
My grave will read “cause of death: solar flare”
And all who pass it by will remark
“Ah, what a wonderful way to go.”
You are my winter sun,
and I am but a specimen of flora
depending on you for life and sustenance.
When you die, I will swiftly wither away
in the misery
caused by the absence of my life,
my source of direction,
my whole world.
You are everything to me,
and I will spend every second I can borrow
giving you all I have and more.
Copyright © Incipient Poet | Year Posted 2023
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