Winter melts to Spring
I never saw beauty in that
In the ending of an era
What does it matter if flowers come?
I'm always left wanting more

When I can't find delight in rebirth,
And the Winter of a Life always seems more fruitful
Than a birthing of the times, a dawning of an age.
And setting is a piece of history;
No one sees the charm in a time fleeting.

Age is not a thing of which to be ashamed.
Youth may be a time both prosperous and jovial
But with age comes wisdom and poise.
So go on and celebrate your Spring.
I'll be here lamenting the dissipating drifts of Winter.

04/10/2000

Posted on 10/26/2004
Copyright © 2025 Emily G Myers