Impermanence (A Sonnet) Poem by Richard St. Clair

Wait we for a suite of rains and ices
To descend upon our storied town;
Somewhere it will bring a power line down -
A veritable cosmopolitan crisis!
For spring I find myself in earnest yearning
Though the winter is not yet half done;
And when the season its harsh course has run
I'll find my passions once again a-burning.
Seasons, but a fleeting thing through time,
Are something to rejoice in or endure,
Whether it's ice or halcyon verdure,
Whether it's gentle dew or crusty rime.
Over time all memories will fade,
As unto time our destinies are made.