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Pondering the Seasons
The seasons hurt my soul
As they carelessly roll
Through and within in my memories
When the leaves were falling in your hair
The red, the yellow, the smell of rain
I hold on to your face
Though we don’t talk anymore
When it starts to snow
My mom is looking out the window smiling
The smell of cookies and cocoa linger
Now all I see is her grave
And the flowers wilting beside it
In the heat of summer my brother swims
He’s only as high as my shoulders
But when I see his eyes now, they’re old and withered
His hair is gray and skin sinking
The spring, my children are running
Picking flowers for their mama
The smallest is glistening in the sun, her feet so little
But they’ve all moved away, and I’m alone
For everyone grows up, moves on, gets old
Left to ponder the seasons
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