Seasons after Writer’s Island:
***
Spring was late
As was summer last year
Or, did it happen at all?
Wind and rain is all I remember
Life itself seemed to postpone
its glamour and quiet,
its peace and caresses
Until all we know
is snowfall.
© 2011 Mariya Koleva
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This works for me. I am very much drawn to the way it accepts our not knowing quite what the seasons are doing.
David – thanks a lot!
Winter did seem never ending, but happily spring has sprung: Here’s my verse to Spring: Spring Migration
Gerry – thanks!
The joy of ageing perhaps – when all days pass so quickly and seasons become a blur
Anna – thank you!