Seasoned

So it’s Spring
and we’re running through the park
smiling and laughing
noticing every little thing
like the gleam of morning dew
or the blush of your cheeks
on a warm afternoon.

Summer now
and there’s so much more to do
so much more life
but so much less…new.
Still, the sun shines, so we make hay
we dwell in our company
and wish these summer days
were here to stay.

Autumn comes all too soon,
wide blue skies turn gunmetal grey
and the wind strokes our shoulders
like an old lover remembered
on a gloomy afternoon.
And all the vibrant red and golden leaves
can’t hide the fact
that silver chases the colour from our heads
giving us a glimpse of a precarious thread.

Winter finally arrives
and now I walk alone through the park
where we used to run
wrapped up against the cold
home before it’s dark.
I linger in my company
remember summer days
the way you sighed so beautifully
while bathed in the suns rays.

As faded as the sunlight
I shuffle with the fallen leaves
and close my eyes
one last time
in Winters silent night.

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