The Year

Spring. He did battle
With myriad monsters, he
Fought with plastic swords

With fox and bluebirds,
He grew up with the flowers

In bits and pieces
Leaves sprouted in his mind
He thrived for the sky

He lived in a maze
Of never-ending wonder

His sounds were a bird's
He ran as though lightning, he
Was a tiny prince

Years passed during spring
So few noticed summer's approach

It broke down the door
Barged in, flamboyance, passion
Overconfident

His zeal was a flame
Its burning blurred his vision

He flew fast through life
Running intoxicated
Flying on paper

That time was so short
Believing immortality

He believed summer
Would never desert him, so
Transformed into fall

Wiser and older
He'd been colored by time

Leaves fell, red and frail
Fragments of innocence, they
Had to be let go

Slower and colder
His pedestal had fallen

He stood, bare branches
Awaiting snow, still able
To embrace, protect

Snow came. He declined.
Grew quieter with the earth

The world was bright, cold
things began sleeping, leaving
Soon he would be gone

Now he was content
to enjoy what time remained

He felt the snow fall
gave thanks to what had burned him
scarred him, molded him

He left his world,
ready as the coming year





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