Curls unfurl into spring and gardens sprout children – all with stories of their own like bees and dreams and streets The teeth of summer hone their bite on staring skin and a hustle of wind from the billion candles of childhood Sunlight shimmies down willows and falls into shapes like eyebrows raised in question or thumbs hitching a ride to autumn Showers of color ebb and flow heady and sharp like flames of fire Spines of wood empty the page and clear a path for creation Sleep straddles the sled of winter dons the meaning of every change hails a race of thrift and drift to the dark prize of homecoming Curls unfurl into spring and gardens sprout children – all with stories of their own like bees and dreams and streets Change rattles in pockets and purses adds the sum of every season while promise demands my patience (aloof) and hoes the long lane to heaven