Poetry

Seasons

It was September
and the weather was as crisp
as the pages of friendship we would share together
It was then April

and I took comfort in our connection

as if you were an umbrella shielding me from momentum
It fell into Summer

and your thoughts and touch felt like a hot breeze I wanted to destroy
Winter came

and I tried to take comfort in your name, but realized a memory wasn’t the same

img_4991

-Fatima Jeylani

 

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close