In Many Flavors Poem by Kevin Maroney

Deep in the summer, a melting on the tongue,
the rogueish wind's running, with playful bite for some,
or at least that's what we'd like to think in the ending of the sun,
that if one walks through trees, the river's sure to run.

But when one passes by and by, he notices a change,
the river stops, and fish grow cold, as ice runs through the bay,
for winter's come early, it's not going to go away,
Looks like it's here to stay, winter's expanded its domain.

A fire licks in every drop, from freezing rain that falls,
but though you'd like to warm from it, it's just cold death that calls
With a thought turned to a doubt, time whiles away,
as in the winter snows you stop, while your bones wither and decay.

Starting in a place so warm, the babe wandered on its way,
and through this place, it fell to gold, going so astray.