By Meghan Tsai
Suddenly the world was softer around the edges.
Bare branches carried color again,
and even the light seemed warmer
when it touched your face.
Loving you felt like watching winter loosen its grip.
Like learning that cold things
could bloom too.
You left traces of yourself everywhere,
pink skies at dusk,
yellow petals caught in sidewalks,
green returning to places
I thought I had forgotten how to grow.
And when you were gone,
the season stayed for a while,
beautiful enough to hurt.
Because some people leave
the way spring eventually does,
slowly,
gently,
until one day you realize
the warmth has disappeared
and you are standing in a different season entirely.
About the Author
Meghan is a minimalist poet who writes about scattered thoughts and feelings.