Winter was a comfort,
darkness gently wrapped
around my waning self.
In gray light, soft snow
fell outside my window 
and darkness came early
bringing me rest.

I almost missed spring,
a bud on the tree,
a crocus or two.
It dashed by the panes,
so fleeting
that I was left unprepared

when summer arrived.
it glares through the glass
Too brilliant,
the multitude of flowers.
Sun glistens
off leaves and grass
jarring my vision.
Heat drains
away my spirit.

So I wait
for autumn's release of fire,
bringing me back,
to comfort of winter.

© 1996 Judy Anne 

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