nature's fresh dewy spring love
sweet smelling and lovely
in it's tentative, uncertain pastels
heats up all summer
growing bolder, flaring up,
burning out of control
until fall brings the cooling
the growing distance between lush blade of grass
the slower pulse flowing through her limbs
the brazen pinnacle of ripe glamour
descending into fading attraction and brittle beauty
her regal shoulder cold and lovely as marble
she releases her plumage to stand unadorned
against the stark white sky and bitter winds
she is quick to spark or sodden with tears
as she lets it all go
and sinks to her knees,
head bowed,
hands folded,
to await - unsung and alone -
the cold still grave of snow . . .

entry seventy-seven written 2007-10-29