You clothed my heart in a Montana
spring.
The first time I saw you, my eyes were
bathed in sunshine.
Soon, my mind was overcast by
rainclouds,
Ominous and unfulfilled.
What little of your light could filter
through
Only intensified the green growing
underneath.
Still, I grew cold, covered by an icy
maiden snow.
Thoroughly blotted, you no longer
colored my heart,
and now it is April once again, and I
start from scratch.
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