i feel as if
i am watching myself
as one watches the trees
change from bright green
to dull shades in winter.
Like a simple surveyor I am helpless;
no one can stop the seasons.
to put an end to their turning
i remember summer was there
alive,
singing birds, bright sun, crowds drunk
in laughter
but i watched it turn
to solemn cold, and quiet.
taking on a different persona.
chill and numb to heat and warmth.
i wait and watch for
the season's turning...
and for my own.