four season climate is
a hill of sliding beans
every new step stuffing memories
6 feet further under
rainy day orbit around the lake
amnesia in a mist of new possibilities.
Tags: change, lakes, mist, nature, poem, saeasons
Tell me, does it take a year to orbit the sun, or a revolution to measure a year? I’ve never quite grasped that.
the only thing i’m sure of is that sometimes i feel dizzy.
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