in a year, there is never enough time
spring comes, the vine finds purchase
all of the land is gorgeous
summer comes with all it's urges
so much to do and hope no scourges
fall comes and nature gives largesse
one squirrels away and thinks of purpose
winter comes and cold makes nervous
tree bones and only a white surface
even in time you wish for more years


Penned by my hand on the 5th of Scarlatan, in the year 650 AF.