Every Season Sought

Hold me tender,
the only one I seek:
temporary tear breach.

Dam the rest
as your love ripples,
fills again those crevices,
archaic, getting old.

I long for those fissures
to grave-grow cold.

Your weathered browns
still warm my soul.

(No sadness today, just recalling those times in each season when I needed most, and you drew me near to remind me of the greatest, purest truth I know. ❤️)

Poem and image ©LauraDenise