Love is
the cool breeze tickling the tip of the nose
turning it rosy on a hushed winter morning

love is fire raging passionately through the
terrain in great stirring chaos

love is the steady billow of the bullfrog and
the sweet chirping of crickets rising together
in the swelling symphony of the swamp

love is the guttural boom of war
and the shrill cries left behind

love is what remains in wake of the storm
love is.