Seasons Past, Seasons Passed

IMG_3802Back to school shopping
cool weather,
shorter days,
acorns plop,
tinted leaves crunch under my feet.
yellow. orange.
red and brown.

 

iciclesChristmas shopping
bundle up,
day gives way,
a dusting of white,
hollow, whistling wind stings my face.
black. white.
gray.

 

humingbird B FullerEaster shopping
warm sunshine,
moist buds,
dampened earth encourages its blooms
merry pitches delight my ear.
pink. purple.
golden and lilac.

 

IMG_2968Travel shopping
blistering heat,
day, please stay,
humming cicadas welcome bright butterflies,
warm sprinklers douse my sneakers.
green. green. brown.

Come, go, come, go.
Regular as the tide,
as the sun, as the moon, as the stars.

I am
not a season,
not a regular,
not fixed in the universe.

I come
with empty hands,
with full heart,
with agile mind in slowing body.

It is
the me that changes
against the glory of days,
of season’s greetings and departures,
of life gone on
in neighboring houses.

IMG_6762I am
here, as ever have been.
what day?
what weather?
what smell, what sound,
what touch?

Does anyone know?

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About wlebolt

Life comes at you fast. I like to catch it and toss it back. Or toss it up to see where it lands. I do my best thinking when I'm moving. And my best writing when I am tapping my foot to a beat no one else hears. Kinesthetic to the core.

Posted on August 23, 2015, in Body, Life, poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Very beautiful!

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