Seasons


It doesn’t seem fair
That an antipodean friend
Is swimming in a city
Awash with giggling daffodils
And bridges fresh dressed for spring
In wildest violet
While in my town the keening autumn wind
Sends crisp ochre tears falling from the plane trees.

I was never a winter person.
I face the sun like the day-lily
Turning as the world
Keeping my back to the shadows
And it doesn’t seem fair
That I have to go without in order for you
To enjoy!
We should both enjoy together.

Pam C.


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