What season includes me?
\nI\u2019m not an apple you can pick
\nand leave your kisses on.
\nA thistle that pricks your fingers,
\ntouching an irresistible face.
\nMorning, fuzzy with frost,
\ninviting you to be naked.
\nTo be a kite in spring,
\na carousal in summer.
\nA puma crouching on the horizon
\nin fall.<\/p>\n
What season could I be
\nto fall like snow on an ancient city
\nand turn it white?
\nFly south and cross the equator?
\nHow does a man,
\nhunched in his shirt,
\ncommemorate the passing of the year?
\nPlay the guitar like his father
\nat the greening of the earth?
\nHoist new sails
\nwhen the warm wind returns?<\/p>\n
Choose his favorite holiday
\nwith a festival,
\nor be a harlequin,
\nand wear the colors of each season.
\nPlaids, geranium red,
\npastels,
\nwhite sweaters woven from lamb,
\nand eyes,
\nreflecting every season inside them,
\nwith a lifetime to love?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
What season includes me? I\u2019m not an apple you can pick and leave your kisses on. A thistle that pricks your fingers, touching an irresistible…<\/p>\n