Winter lays thick on this thin coating of skin and my day, like the wind
spins
faster,
feels colder.

Older now,
time
is the enemy.
I draw lines in the sand but age holds out its hand to greet me, as if we were old friends

Winter ends
and the spring brings me joy,
the old man and the boy dressed in the same rags.

The last drops of summer sun and where,
I once begun to understand,there stands with outstretched hands,
time.

Then the fall
my curtain call,
the applause being the clause in the contract that nobody reads
and I am led to the exit where the stage door awaits, and fate with its carriage takes me to the marriage of man and his seasons.