My love for you is not the pinkish softness
of a kitten’s paw,
it’s not the brightness of a summer solstice,
not the nausea of honeysuckled sweetness in June
but the burning throbs of ambiguity
in autumn sunrise.
My love for you is morning haze
of late September,
it’s the waltzing fumes on water
and the teasing sun who kisses
blush on aging foliage.
I love you with my fingers buried
with the earthworms deep in compost.
with butter melting on my new potatoes,
I love you more than honks from geese
that’s leaving for the south.
I love you falling further — darker.
Today I host at dVerse MTB, and I want us all to write with metaphors as strong as you possibly can.
September 26, 2019