Circle of the Seasons

By GCleare

Apple Blossom Dreams

The Flower Moon slowly swells in the evening sky like a curled petal yearning for release.

Soft as the inside of a baby's elbow, the pink apple buds unfurl along with it.

Pale, delicate, and scented like the ghost of a dream that lingers on in the morning and I lick my lips to taste what it was, sugar sweet...



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