Seasons
It was a season of calling
When phones rang
And knocks fell loudly
On the front door of my home
When friends
Would call out to me
As they walked across the street
In old familiar voices
It was a season of places
And romantic spaces
From far, far away
That would whisper to me
Saying
Come
Come visit me
Come away
It was a season
Of no winters, summers
Autumns, or springs
That ended
In the same way it all began
Calling out to me
With a simple knock
That fell loudly
On my front door
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