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Four Days

The whole year can be boiled down to four perfect days

By Matthew DonnellonPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
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Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

There are certain,

times,

every year,

when nature,

reminds the world,

who the greatest artist is,

each and every year,

there are four days,

four perfect days,

Spring,

each Spring,

there’s a day,

When the rain stops, but for a moment, and the world begin life anew. The world is nothing but lush green foliage with hints of purple and pink. A vernal paradise, as though the Garden of Eden is once more.

Summer

each Summer,

there’s a day,

When the sun hasn’t reached its zenith, and the heat has not reached its full effect. The world is nothing but beaches and sunshine.

Autumn

each Autumn,

there’s a day,

That takes your breath away. The trees have turn so many colors it’s looks as though the forest is on fire, and the air is cool. The leaves rustle and sky is grey.

Winter

each Winter,

there’s a day,

That’s so quiet you can hear every snowflake as it hits the ground. There’s a blanket of fresh snow and it crunches gently underfoot. The world fallen under Jack Frost’s spell and it’s like you’re living in a snow globe. The world is still and you can stand around catching snowflakes on your tongue.

Four seasons,

Four perfect days.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Matthew Donnellon

Twitter: m_donnellon

Instagram: msdonnellonwrites

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