UnEarth Magazine.

spring 

I wonder if the flowers knew their birthdays would change. 

We’ve got magnolias in January and peonies in May. 

I’m skipping stones on ponds that feel frozen to my mind, 

Cold snaps, snaps, snaps, but never quite in time. 

Winter has been pushed away, a long-forgotten friend… 

Foe? Who knows. I’m getting muddled up again. 

The world’s awake and so am I. At least, I see the sun. 

She burns her way across the sky. Is there something to outrun? 

summer  

My heart says hot, but my body feels flame. 

I watch the way mud cracks and wonder how long it’s been that way. 

Outside in October, did I forget my coat? 

A bit too warm to need it, but the action just seems rote. 

Laying underneath a tree, but the shade is gone. 

I haven’t heard birdsong; it feels like something’s wrong. 

I’m whistling, and mimicking, but it’s false call and response. 
It’s just an echo, a shadow, nothing found or lost. 

autumn  

I wish the leaves the best as their colours start to change. 

Red, and greens, and oranges all seem commonplace. 

I think that if I squinted, the trees would look less bare. 

The crunching underfoot feels like cruelty without care. 

It’s dry and unforgiving, the soil beneath my feet. 

Not damp and not living, where’s the slow heartbeat? 

Wind whipping, trees bending, there is no quiet hush. 

I’ve never witnessed nature being in such a frantic rush.