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Wednesday, March 25, 2015

For My Seasons

The earth suspended in space
tilted as it is
creates the variations
in parts of the year seasons

People create their own
progressive visions
often more than four
certainly more than ten

the direct shine of babies
unashamed of its breath
as the teachers will claim
that sin is in the first

a first look at another person
to know their difference
from fingers to feet
with taught skin or wrinkled

a knowledge of love
the depth of its pain and pleasure
as wide as a night sky
or as a rock freshly cracked

the inside and the outside of space
what is mine and yours
as if it somehow didn't belong
to the whole of burning leaves

the hair in a comb
some of them with color
a first day betrothed
or gray as skin in final stillness

these are offered as some
of a trip around the sun
measured and never the same
as leaves turn to earth

So many to glory in
as music winds it way
up the spine through skin
scintillating in a bold breeze

Barry G. Wick

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