Four Seasons Poem by L MILTON HANKINS

Winter drove furiously into town last night
blustering and blowing,
frosting the meadows,
painting our sidewalk slippery white.
Icicles are hanging from the portico eave
temperature dipping
to an incredible low
We stay in the warmth to wait for reprieve.

A first crocus has thrust its head up here
deep purple,
dancing with breezes,
beckoning sisters to appear.
Tiny rivulets rushing down the path
like miniature rivers
from the recent thaw
While an early robin takes a fluttery bath.

Perfect day for fostering that magical glow
brilliant blue sky,
white fluffy clouds
picnicking in the flowering meadow.
Riverfront fireworks honoring the nation
hotdogs on the grill
watching children play
Annual parade for the Labor Day celebration.

The first baked-brown leaf drifts down
settling on the grass,
after a final mow,
it wears a variegated gown.
The mountains dress in shades of gold and red,
sun lowering in the sky
brings nippiness to the air
And this unsettling vague sense of dread.