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This Same Dance

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Seasons and Time
swing each other onto the dance floor
once more.
These old friends, together so long,
know the moods, the moves their partner
has in store. Here it comes, now—
This July moment when birds and
early risers discover (again) how days
shorten, how summer rushes
past us and February’s thick snow
readies itself to enter the dance.
The birds are talking quietly among themselves
and their tone is bemused—they
watch the dancers and wonder
what they see in each other, this strange pair—
Time always hurrying forward, eager to
See Something New and Seasons murmuring
Oh, let’s stretch our legs, sway through
this familiar circle, remember
October, remember May? Come now, around again.

One response »

  1. Clever and very skillful. It’s as if you stepped out of time to observe and write this poem.

    Reply

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