Big fat trunks with branches shooting east and west
That had knots and shoots and skinny twigs
With airy light defined leaves that
Moved In a pulse of light: a cloud feast.
It was spring and that year through my window,
I had watched the seasons change as the sky
Shimmied her dance, this a story imprinted
into her aether by the trees. That winter
We had heavy snow falls that filled
The sunset with icy blues and pinks, and orange
Streaked through with opaque white, and we had storms
Of rain and sleet that fell from fat
lead grey cloud that spilled then ran,
and in summer the light was weighted down
with the promise of heat that never materialized,
and here all four seasons stirred the day;
And as I wished for more definition I wanted to say:
Be who you are summer, you are better
Than the mix the rest throw in; then when
The long evenings gave way to darker days
I was happy to see her leave, to see
Autumn fall, for at least then I was on firm ground,
And there were no expectations of long
Welcome warm days -- that fell into nothing.
Mari 2015