Seasons
Summer to fall,
No other transition
Is quite so compelling,
So thrilling,
So enchanting,
The sunlight shines golden
In the late afternoon,
Illuminating the leaves of trees,
Some of which reveal gentle hues
Of red, orange, and yellow,
The sun spreads its warmth
Like an infant being swaddled in a blanket,
And it causes one to doze off,
Daydreaming of yesteryears,
What about those years?
Ones of youth,
Ones of innocence,
Ones of naivety,
It’s a bit like the trees,
The way one enters the world
Small, frail and vulnerable,
Only to grow and change
As time elapses,
Quicker than memory will allow,
A sudden tingling stops the mind
And halts one’s dwelling on the past,
What is tingling on my arm?
And when one looks down,
They see the winged creature
Crawling on the forearm,
Unintentionally tickling the arm hairs,
Oh, it’s just a lanternfly,
And now, it is here
That a new sensation arises,
As one observes the insect
With its patterned wings,
Displaying vibrant yellows and pinks,
With an overlay of dark spots,
Like a photo negative print
Of a night sky full of stars,
The sensation is suddenly alleviated
As the insect flies away,
But not without leaving
An impression on one’s mind,
One about small things,
Beautiful, fleeting things,
Which might just make
The passing of time,
Or the passing of life,
That much sweeter.
Copyright © Alexander Ray | Year Posted 2024
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