The Seasons

there she was
green and young,
her hair was growing
her limbs were stiff
she woke early each morning
in the cool arms of fog 

there she was
and she was mine
heat brought her fully to bear
her beauty was indubitable;
she grew limber
and danced in the breeze
as the sun consumed the day 
and tickled the leaves.

there she was
distant and deteriorating  
her bright colors, deep flames, 
she was leaving
before the first frost
she was growing cold
she was already lost

there she was
dressed in white
cold and quiet
somber and hard.
far from the green in which she started
or the heat in which she grew,
her colors have faded
but she was the best I ever knew.

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2 Responses to The Seasons

  1. Mesmerizing. I’ve never heard this process described this way. It’s a captivating cycle of nature, but in this, you’ve simply transcended all other descriptions. :D I love it.

  2. artshopgirl says:

    Thank you. I enjoyed this and felt like I was a part of the story.

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