Silent Poet
In winter I nestle
under your quilt warming me
till snow melts.
In spring I bloom
from your quilt to bear fruits
of everlasting joy.
In summer I watch
hordes of backpackers, under my shades
as heat wave makes them bored.
In fall I remember
you, my sanctuary, full of uplifting smiles
as I, slowly, turn into gray.
Before your eyes I became
the silent poet, longing for your warm
embrace when winter, again, comes.
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