Torment of Seasons
I used to yearn for the sun like a tiny sprout trying to break free from the earth
Shivering in the icy winds of grey winter
Longing for the warming touch of spring
And when spring finally arrives with all her fanfare and elation,
her warm touch turns to a blowtorch of summer; scorching my tiny leaves and sucking all the moisture from my roots
I now long for the cool breeze of autumn
A respite from the rotting heat of summer
Have yet to find that happy medium
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2019
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