Does Hope cause immunity?

The trees breathing vapor
Exhalt against the forest skyline
Intangible matter, dense, blends the cold
Condensing, Gathering
up from the ground;
the edges of a silken cloth.

This time of year is Dampness,
the heat dissipates and
drops the flower petals' clammy tissues
Roiling shades of ochre.

This time of year
Seeds are Summer Dreams incapsulate, Breaking free, drifting overhead
Gone, forgotten--
Rust that smells like blood
blooms over the countryside.

A second glance back--
Barren are the bones of winter.