WINTER
Out of mother's womb
into a snow-white room with
tree-like silhouettes:
family members,
nurses, doctors – camera
flashes – too much sun
for first day we cry
bewildered freeze frame upload
“Aww so cute!” repeat.
SPRING
One more rainy day,
April showers trickle on
into May. We trace
dandelion trails
into enchanted forests
Where the Wild Things Are
forever in sap.
Ooze stop – our legs crossed in beds
of forget-me-nots.
SUMMER
Sipping apple juice
from the Tree of Knowledge in
the Tree of Life's shade,
toasting to bloodlines
lost, drunk like Dionysus
with the delusion
we're immortal still,
knowing damn well youth fades like
a cicada's song.
AUTUMN
Crepuscular rays
set the leaves ablaze for the
last Golden Hour.
Looking to the west,
we hold our breath until we
turn red in the face,
holding on till the
last – though we've all been told of
life beyond the rake.
