Seasons
Summer a sigh
as slumber befalls
the return of rain
are you the same
dust on the frame
print the past
the lessons four
rehearsal run
where’s the eraser
meant to stay
longer
in the sun
before my hair
turned gray
and my mind a maze
leaves are leaving long lines
without a trace of shade
concrete color wash and wear
walked the woods in winter
felt the flurries melt my face
bent down to touch the ground
round and round the colors turn
till green is grass and yellow rings a bell
as bonnets of blue curtsey to the wind
summer yawns and stretches forth
wide awake and walking
barefoot blades running through and through
ask again
are you the same
dust on the frame
print the past
the lessons four
TL