#326 Seasons Change Poem by Jimmie Arrington

Around me the seasons change, now I lie in a sea of green.
The autumn grass beneath my head is crisp and damp but clean.
The maple leaves nearby have turned gold, burnt orange and red.
They float on the fleeting breeze outside and in my head.

I’m under an enchanted spell or perhaps a hypnotizing trance,
The drifting leaves and tiny things have all begun to dance.
Ginger bellied robins salute my ears as they migrate south.
Enthralled by such beauty and allure, no words escape my mouth.

A mild cedar fragrance paints my lungs as I inhale deep.
It seems as if I’m in a dream but I’m too alive to be asleep.
Holding on to a transitory season proves foolish and inane,
What once was is passed and gone and will never be again.

The world buzzes vociferously yet I can’t hear a single sound
And a light frost licks my fingertips as I graze the frigid ground.
The winter grass beneath my head feels like it’s twenty below.
Around me the seasons change, now I lie on a blanket of snow.