Oh seasons of change, why do you torment me so?
Each falling leaf is in unison with the ticking of the clock.
The maddening melding of yellow, orange, red remind me of sunsets that come too soon, of sun constantly in my eyes.
The rushing river that fades to a slow gurgle; whom hath turned off the tap?
The color and the cool morn coalesce, but to what end?
The long, dark cold of winter.
It is coming.
Oh seasons of change, why do you remind me of my immortality so?
Why must death chase time each year?
I look forward, in six months time, to new life, and hope for eternal greenery.
But first...
The long, dark sleep of winter.
It is coming.
Oh seasons of change, why must you pursue me so?
Release me from your grasp, and let me clutch to the life that so freely passes me by.
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