As It Will Always Be
when the spring winds blow
the bottles in the myrtle;
Aphrodite sings.
hushed summer rainfall,
Freyr tenderly drumming fronds
life, the scyther reaps.
crunching underfoot
susurrus of autumn leaves;
deteriorate.
we can see winter,
the silence of a blank page;
yet we do not hear.
so it will begin again
birth, life, death; an end in pain.
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2023
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