Seasons

A Poem

D.A. Harvey

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Photo by Bernd Schulz on Unsplash

Seasons. Like the changing of leaves and the Fall’s dew that coats the green sea of fresh-cut grass. That surpassed Summer’s warmth. We always swear that it will last. And curse when it’s here. As the humid air disappears until the next year. The world becomes cold, like our love for one another. Frigid. We can see Winter’s air. Our words take shape. Life. We are still breathing. Springing forth into new seasons. Year after, year after, year after year. . .

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D.A. Harvey

Photographer-Writer-Mentor I'm attempting to live life on my terms using the freedom of creativity. My goal is to live life without the fear of failure.