2 Versions of 4 Seasons

Written by: CJ Krieger

These 2 different versions are separated by nine years

Part 1


Small speckles of wild grass 
Looking like tiny green drops 
That had fallen to the earth 
Were the very first sign 

Waving in the breeze 
With their feathery tops rippling 
They slowly reached for the sun 
Growing much taller than myself 

Then the dragonflies 
Darting about like lost Messerschmitts 
Looking for a place to land 
Foretold of the coming 

As I looked down the long winding path 
I saw off in the distance 
A slight figure of a woman 
Drawing closer and closer 

It was you 
(And I had missed you so) 
With your smiling face 
And your arms wildly waving hello 

Must be spring 



The unusually humid 
Hot summer night 
Found my hands sliding 
Along your warm, moist body 

As I watched you 
Lying nakedly on the cool sheets 
My eyes followed a single drop 
Of beaded sweat 
Which had leisurely rolled down 
Your gentle curves 
And magically disappeared 

As you awoke to my touch 
We both followed 
The movements of my fingers 
Thoroughly searching 
For a single drop of water 
Lost within the folds 
Of your thighs 

Must be summer

- - - - - - - - - - - - 


There was not a bird in the sky 
They had all fallen 
Into the top 
Of a large red oak tree 
On the northeast side of the meadow 

Each one singing 
Louder than the next 
Until all the leaves shattered 
And fell 

Must be autumn

- - - - - - - - - - -


A single leaf 
On a tree 
Is all that remains 
As a tribute to summer 

While on the ground 
Changing patterns with the blowing wind 
The dry crinkling sound of leaves 
Moves to and fro 

As the tree quietly sleeps 
For the chilly mornings to pass 
And the warmth of a spring rain 
To say… hello 

Sit at my window 
Staring down the road 
Still waiting… for you 

Must be winter 


Part 2


The windows rattled
As the spring winds blew
Down from the mountains
And across the forest
As I watched the newly budded trees
Bend and sway

Although spring was here
It was a cold wind
That chilled my cheeks
As I pulled the hood
Tighter over my face

Walking home I watched
While last year’s winter leaves
Scurried across the ground
Every so often stopping to rest
Before running out of view

I enjoy days like this
It keeps my thoughts from rambling
On thoughts of you
With your Easter dress and bonnet
Walking down this old country path
Waving to me as you fall 
Silently over the mountain 

It was the last days of Spring


It was one of the warmer summer days
Not a breeze or cloud in the sky
The humidity so high
I could almost reach out
And pluck it from the air

I watched the sunlight
Hitting the north side of my house
Seeking shelter then slowly roll away 
Towards whatever little shade remained
With the speed of Grandma’s Black Molasses

A few miles east of the old country trail
The river’s waters had fallen
Lower than I had seen in years
Even the riverbanks had dried
Into a crumbling hard brown clay
That yearned for the rains to come

The heat, so oppressive and unyielding
Muted the voices of the birds
While all the wild animals
That usually ran about the fields
Sought out some relief or at the very least
Waited until night fell 
Before coming out to play

These were the quiet days
The silent times of life
It was the summer of waiting
A time that I could no longer dance
Or sing, or see you under the starry sky
This was the summer you had gone 
And I had grown much, much too old
To wait for another winter
To bring you home

It was the last days of Summer


Autumn arrived
With a cool morning wind
And the rustling 
Of golden brown leaves
That changed color
As they hysterically danced
Through the town streets
Before heading out
To their winter home

Here and there
Gangs of ferocious squirrels 
Ran up and down the trees
Harvesting whatever fruits and nuts 
That refused to drop
From the shivering trees
Whose bare bark
Could be heard
All about the woods

As I watched
Their once small mouths
Now bulging
With bits and pieces
Of summers’ leftover bounty
Hurrying down 
The old woodland paths
I couldn’t help but smile

This is the time of year
That I enjoy the most
A time of transition
When the earth 
Prepares for a long winters nap
Yes, it most definitely was
(As I thought to myself smiling) 
A time of scurrying squirrels 

It was the last days of Autumn


Night inched its way
Up the north-east side 
Of my house
Much in the way
A little child
Would climb over a fence
One small hand at a time

And as night's shadow
Reached the very top
It stopped for a moment
Before tumbling over
And falling down 
The south-west wall
Plunging the house into darkness

It was a familiar winter night 
But what I remember most
Was how much colder it seemed
Then other winters before
Warm or cold
It was winter
Complete in every way
With winds like icy fingers
And falling snow
That seemed to go on and on

It was on a night like this
That I thought of you
A night
When I was overwhelmed 
By everything that winter was
Compounded by a darker darkness
Than any nights I could remember
That had come before

And try as I might
I could not summon the sun
Or make it rise more swiftly
To free my mind
From unwanted thoughts
Nor could I find any solace
In the quiet, quiet
Of winter’s silence

It was Winter