seasons

 

and then it comes 
on an axis spinning 
chassis in transit 
there is a season for all things 
free at first 
like the wisteria floating 
in the breeze 
love comes ringing 
like the swirls of cold glaciers in winter 
the playful indignation of flowers in spring 
the slow dance of dull couplets in summer 
as autumn arrives, rummaging through the leaves 
a rose, an iris, some baby’s breath 
I am proud of his flowers I have in my hair 
in every season the sunlight percolates 
wrapping the flowers in a warm embrace and 
drop 
the petal and unfurl the stigma now 
time to come clean, flower boy 
and surely this is the feeling 
 
for years to be longing 
at last we’re belonging