.:Seasons:.

As I woke up this morning I looked outside only to see the snow was gone... This year of seasons have been weird. Anyway while thinking of the seasons I stumbled upon one of my old poems:


Seasons
Slowly summer is in transition, but spring still lingers, hanging like evil men in dead air. Looking for a place to start its' infection of color; while we wait in pale grey and cold winter rains.


Feeling no warmth from a sun that still slumbers in his plush comforter of clouds. Meanwhile we wait in our chambers filled with artificial light. Dozing off to better places, yet too eager to stay long in a dream...


And it reminded me, as the seasons change with waves of unknown weather, we change in motions only know to ourselves as well.