Literature
Seasonal
I don’t see the seconds,
and I can’t catch the minutes,
and the hours don’t fit,
they’re twelve sizes too fast.
I can count on the seasons,
they always come around,
and I find that they feel
the way they used to.
I know they will change
after I get somewhat settled,
comfortable,
and reasonably happy.
It is a false sense of security
that I lull myself into
time and again
with the change of the seasons.