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The Solitude of July

Writing in July demands patience, summer nights, tiredness of long days, and solitude. As each passing day adds more to the days in which your presence was dearly desired, I watch the sun rise again from its weariness. 

Though several suns have set without you, each has risen anew, carrying hopes alongside. 

Solitude usually holds a propensity for certain thoughts; for me, you are one of them. I find myself engulfed either by your memories or by your warmth. I admire every passing hour, where beautiful memories become both a part of life and the reason they continue to spiral, visionary yet soothing. 

This July, solitude has experienced both the absence and the presence of someone who matters to one universe as a flower to a garden, or a leaf to autumn, small in appearance, yet precious to a tender heart. 

Till the seasons keep changing,  

~Zara M.

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