“Sitting Through the Seasons”
Sitting in a summer day
Muscles sore and empty vessel surrounds
The birds are silent waiting for their orders
A new bone to pick rises on the horizon
Stretching for hope a seam begins to tear
A little bit of sun breaks through
Hope like a spring dwells within
Sitting on an Autumn day
Time is trickling people hurting one is bleeding
Somehow the crowd just bustles along
Sweet and innocent the girl is treasured
Though fingers just tap when she’s missing
Some wonder if a new girl can be bought
Its a shame they don’t sell them at the store
Sitting on a Winter day
The wind is blowing quickly they all walk
You could run but the jester waits to laugh
Cold hearts and cold smiles throw rocks at the lights
Where is your jubilee now they ask
Hiding in a dark corner of a closet
The warm celebration begins looking over shoulders
Sitting on a Spring day
Life is a new celebration rings with old returns
Folding hands and tapping fingers divise
Plans and blueprints to foil the old man’s idea
Widows stick out their tongues at dark clouds
She has them beat no one is darker than her
All in all encircles they dance to the joy of death
Sitting here everyday
I watch a new Sun sprout
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