And here
Settled like in water
I am going to sink into you like a falling stone
Like a tree half buried in the peat moss slow grown

Into you
I will seep anew

You were a fourth born, snow-born, breeze
Wild as the first sight of a western scene
And I was surprised, by the furious snow
As I didn’t expect you so early that Fall

When one man says
"All the little things"
He is looking into the eyes of her
In love and drunk on summers wine
Before the winters fall
As if the endless summers were yet alive on this earth

When in reality
"All of the little things"
We do, and say, and act to be
Are but seasons we have aligned with time
Are but dusty feelings
Stirring occasionally in a field full of tempered streams

A wise man will say
Such days are an illusion
Such lies are well lived