As always, I am humbled to be a Medium writer:
You are the mellow vines
ripe at the touch of Autumn.
You are a blue alphabet
falling from the sky…
You are the amber leaves
lured in the sleep of Winter.
You are the macadamized trance
when Spring is climbing up the trees.
If you are not the fragrant moon
to bread stars from shimmering flour
You are the color of fire
that burns in everything you see.
© Iulia Halatz