When we were young
We began wandering
aimlessly
Through leafy
woodland.
We began when there
were only
The early buds of
spring
Wandering on through
The dappled shade of
summer
And its comforting
warmth
Onward then to the
fall
With its crimson hues
Now we embark beyond
The crunch of autumns
leaves
Into the cold metaphor
Of winters landscape
We still have each
other
But we also have
uncertainty
How much winter will
we see?
No comments:
Post a Comment