I am a fool,
prince or pauper
standing proper
in time.

I remember my place
how this current season tastes,
sounds, and feels
but forget how it will
end.

In spring I think
The flowers will bloom
eternally.
It never occurs to me
that Summer will be
right around the corner.

In summer I expect to sweat
get a buzz cut because
I hate hot hair
not thinking
time’s shrinking
will see me sinking in
to summers end
where fall begins.

Fall finds me believing
I will see leaves fleeing
Still falling from bare trees
that sit squarely
before me
though obviously empty.

Winter is a desert.
Nothing warm;
Just cold storms
that make me shiver
forgetting the past
and the future.
I only feel the frigid present.

I never think about or see
the seasonal transitioning.
I only know the now.