You soft,
You smell good,
You taste so bitter,
Summer.
You harden,
You sharpen,
You look sick,
Autumn.
You sleep,
A long life's sleep,
You die,
Winter.
You are back,
My friend,
You are back.
Spring.
You are grass.

Soft, but then it's sharp,
like bad pudding in the mouth,
and smells of candles

The Neanderthal
Stalks his prey, in tall grass, fails,
He relieves himself