Flickr image
Winter has settled
And it means to stay
Leaning its weight
And early darkness
On a soft spoken summer
That was stolen like youth
Now gone without warning
Summer seeded its regrets
We may even want it back
Feeling tricked by silent plans
Of low sun and cold rain
Or a sense that youth
Could have been spent
Differently
In a past that plays still
Frozen and unchanging
While the future floats
Unsettled
Beyond now's firm fence
Planted in present moments
Each one owned and spent
By misers and rich men
Is either lost or savored
While all hearts whisper
Truthfully to the gods
That travel with us
