Four Seasons

December 21, 2008 § 1 Comment

 

I called her
to turn around…
She kept walking
without a sound.
She faded in the blue
of the ocean and sky.
Never a chance, summer,
to say goodbye.
Fall came,
so beautiful, indeed;
he left behind a trail
of leaves and a seed.
So, I picked up
this seed and into my hand
turned to ice;
then, disappeared in land.
As Winter went away,
he passed Spring.
I smiled
at her opening.

 

© Sonya Rose

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