poetry about connections, the universe, sex and this chaotic existence. Put on your seatbelt folks, because things are about to get ANGSTY

"Seasons"

"Seasons"

Seasons

do you ever think about

how as years pass

we see the same trees

change colors

then die

then grow once again?

this winter

i see the seasons change

on my drives over the bridge to work

in the mornings, i look out the same window

at the huge oak tree,

orange leaves diffusing light like stained glass.

or off the balcony overlooking the West Hills

fiery colors soon to be extinguished

by frosty mornings and snow flurries.

the seasons

are the window framed view from my bedroom

choosing wool socks over cotton

the prickles of cold air slipping through the holes in my sweater .

time passes

we change our clocks and our clothes

stripping off layers,

but yet i still

revert back to

the same sweater

i wore last winter.

© 2020 Phoebe Anderson