Atrophy

I

You were fresh in winter,

when lifelessness blossomed in snow and ice.

When twisted trunks of barren trees crushed

flowers, grey and dull, frozen in the soil.

 

II

You were burning in spring,

when the world woke up from slumber.

When trees began new life, fresh and lush,

flowers, budding, young, emerged from dirt.

 

III

You were bright in summer,

when everything was hot and yellow.

When trees grew tall and strong,

flowers, vibrant, bold, bloomed in full.

 

IV

You were different in the fall,

when bitter winds began to form.

When fires burned on tree tops,

Flowers, still softly colored, wilted gracefully

 

in submission to the

cycle that controls us all-

even the mighty fall to the

delicate decay of life.

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