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He loved me like spring,
Everything made new,
Love brimming over on itself.
He loved me like summer,
Heat and steam in the late afternoon,
Ripe with tender sweetness.
He loved me like fall,
Brisk and alive with just a shadow,
Of something colder ahead.
He loved me like winter,
Moments of warmth in dim sunlight,
Just out of reach.
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That last line pushes the poem to a poignant end.