Memoir of the Seasons

The stars fell from the sky tonight,

White and sharp, they assaulted my cheeks,

As they swirled around me, lifeless and harsh,

Leaving the sky an inky black color.

I used to look up at the sky and ponder

The majesty bound up in the twinkling white lights,

But tonight, I bow my head and hurry

To escape the fallen stars as they fall to earth,

Never again to light my midnight paths.

It is a dark and dismal night, walking through the snow,

Crushing the fallen stars beneath my heel as I go.

Patches of snow and patches of grass

Patches of blue sky and grey clouds.

Our world is made up of patches today.

Here a pine tree with all its branches

Laden down with dark green needles.

Surrounded by barren trees waiting for spring.

Dry ground in places and in still others, pools

Of water, not yet drunk up by the earth below.

Some days the wind blows, biting at our hands, faces,

Any part of our bodies not sheltered from the cold.

Other days it is sunny and warms us to our core,

Inviting us to shed our coat, hat, scarf, and gloves

Patches, patches, our lives exist in patches today

And every day in this season of snow and sun.

Patches, patches and evermore--patches.

Wind in my hair

And sun on my face,

I walk first on pavement

And under trees, just budding.

Then I turn onto the sidewalk

And continue my trek.

Sometimes the sidewalk,

Uneven in appearance,

Gives way to gravel.

Sometimes just mud--or grass

I weave around cars.

Oops! I duck to avoid a twig

Dangling off a branch.

Now, I look both ways

And cross the road.

Walking up to the door

Now entering to buy lunch,

My walk is done for now.

I walked under a tree today

And saw that there were buds

Poking out from the branches

As a declaration of spring.

"It is here and so are we"

They seem to say to me.

Not that I needed

To be convinced

For I saw other trees

Were joining in to say

"Since spring is here,

We also are here to greet you."

O trees, thank you for budding

And giving the world

A bit of wondrous color

After a long, colorless winter.

Before there are leaves on the trees,

There are purple hyacinths

Poking out of the ground and growing.

Now they are bursting into full bloom

And bringing back memories

Of planting the bulbs in the ground

In elementary Botany years ago.

Much has changed since that year

But this one thing remains constant:

Purple hyacinths bursting into bloom

To announce the beginnings of spring.

Sitting on the porch step,

Juice dribbling down my chin

A distinct distaste for a spoon

As I bite down on the pink flesh

Of the oh so sweet watermelon

Harbored deep in my soul

And a picture in my mind of

Grandma's childhood dog

With watermelon seeds

Dribbling from the sides

Of his low-hanging cheeks.

This is my association with

Eating watermelon slices

On the back porch step.

The first summer days are rainy

Not a cold, damp rain

That makes a person stay in,

But a warm, steady rain

That brings out umbrellss

Of all colors and sizes

And of course rainboots,

For stomping in puddles

And bringing color to a dreary day.

There is no palette like an October day.

With skies of an unmatched blue

And trees turning their summer green

To shades of yellow and orange

Or maybe even red or brown

And nearly every day is brisker

Than the one that came before it.

Slowly, the leaves will fall from the trees

And they will form a carpet that slowly dulls

As colorful October fades into chilly November

November rains are thieves.

They take the color from the sky,

Wringing it out slowly with each storm.

Then they turn to the trees and tear relentlessly,

Calling upon their confidant, the wind to aid them

In rending every leaf from the tree they grew upon.

Then it dampens the earth to capture the heat

And to pave a clear path for the bitter cold yet to come.

Behold, the year is ending.

The new year is at hand,

Knocking even now at the door,

Waiting to be welcomed in.

But first let us pause and remember

The lessons we learned,

The laughs we laughed,

The tears we cried,

The words we spoke.

Fare ye well, old year.

We will never forget you.

Welcome in, new year!

Let this journey begin.