Thoughts on the Passing of the Seasons

Thoughts on the Passing of the Seasons Drifting so silently we play wasting the hours, Warm in our knowledge of yesterday’s passing. We’ve met on the hilltops and parted near mountains, And we touched without feeling beneath a gray winter sky. Seasons. Never fails. They sneak up on you, don’t they? One day I’m looking out my window… Read More »