On a bright spring morning, we stand on a hill holding hands, and watch the sunrise. you put your arm around my shoulder, adding your warmth to mine.
It’s summer and we sleep under a full moon, counting blinking fireflies. We tell each other fairytales and make wishes on falling stars.
In the autumn we gather the last of the apples, licking sticky Winesap juice from our lips. You call me, “Sweetheart.” I call you, “Baby.”
Winter is quickly approaching. There is a chill in the air and our days are shorter. We shall sit together, waiting for the sunset.