Silent streets beckon,
Wide and empty, like an open hand
A gentle pull back to before

When summer heat
Danced from the streets
Melting time like Dali’s clock
As the night sky poured out her stars
Into our eager and open eyes

When opportunity rushed in
On autumn leaves
Sweeping out the old
In a blue sky breeze

And curtains burst open
On a crisp winter's morning,
Revealing a portrait of white
In a wide and timeless sky

When alone
Was just a seed,
A fantasy of youth,
Yet to reveal
Its perfect purple pedals,
Only to the moon

And racing feet
Kissed the dew
On tender springs buds
Bursting with life.

How gentle a time,
It was to be young,
When all four seasons were ahead.