A Spectrum of Seasons

The colour of my spring is her.

Wet woods and daisy chains,

feathers and fur,

and the wildly urgent

wheedling of her purr.

The colour of my summer is you.

A memory of sea days,

and the ever-endless blue,

of your iris’s

in constant-changing hue.

The colour of my autumn is him.

Soft curls and russet tendrils,

pregnant skies starting to dim,

and my heavy heart

out hanging on a limb.

The colour of my winter is she.

Gray rain and sad days,

sighs through sips of tea,

and the misery

of never knowing ‘we’.

The colour of my life is all.

A spectrum of feeling,

a kaleidoscopic squall,

and the vibrant,

poignant memories I recall.