The Changing of Seasons

On rainy days,
I tamper with my words while
my feet get wet,
and the aroma of coffee escapes my mug.

On sunny days,
I find you in the heat that
bathes my body,
while the sky is too crisp
to formulate the
softness of clouds.

And on the snowy days,
when my breath tangles in spidery flakes,
the blue hues will remember my stanzas
until next winter comes.

This poem is about: 
Me

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