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

6 replies on “Seasons”

  1. David King says:

    This works for me. I am very much drawn to the way it accepts our not knowing quite what the seasons are doing.

  2. Winter did seem never ending, but happily spring has sprung: Here’s my verse to Spring: Spring Migration

  3. Anna :o] says:

    The joy of ageing perhaps – when all days pass so quickly and seasons become a blur

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