When our bright golden sphere arcs an azure sky
It causes sparkling reflections from all that's sheen.
Just like today, when frost filmed all caught by eye
Those surfaces until sun warmed reflections seen.
Then, with arc low in the sky the sun brightly shines
Illuminating all in a golden hue but heating up lags.
Winter's near, spring's far off, late fall now finds
Leafless trees, flowerless gardens, fluttering flags.
Then, from out my window I only see few walkers,
Healthy brave ones, warmly bundled against cold,
Earlier in summer these were my neighbors, talkers.
Many years I've seen seasons change, now I'm old.
The sun shifts its altering arc, the Earth accepts
Seasons as normal, and always, life's force adapts.
Ronald C. Downie