Spring is a birth of new life,
Fresh buds upon hands and knees,
Late intense sunset highlighting life.
Followed at last by
The Summer ability to procreate.
As a dashing gentleman
Doffs his tilted hat
To a lovely lady.
Too soon the body fails.
At last, camouflaged in burnt orange and yellow,
Life’s bitter aches and pains, with cold,
As nature’s pimples
Concede the spotlight to its wrinkles.
A 4:00 p.m. sunset is a funeral
With snow and ice as its pall.
Welcome back to dVerse POETS’ PUB