Seasons

It snows

cold grows

Ice floes

o’er my toes

And

I

Freeze.

It thaws

crow caws

Green shows

‘neath my toes

And

I

Breathe.

It heats

pickling beets

Dust goes

’round my toes

And

I

Thrive.

It cools

cider rules

Yellow rows

‘side my toes

And

I

Grieve.

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2 Comments

  1. ittymac said,

    February 12, 2014 at 11:25 pm

    the cycles of life…

    • witchyluck said,

      February 13, 2014 at 1:54 am

      Yeah…this one still needs a word…I dont like “thrive”…but I posted it anyway.


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