pensiveWind from the mountain
blowing coldly through my hair
as I stand and watch
the snow on the mountain peak
fall leaves dancing in the air.
Tomorrow will dawn
with a leaden sky, and snow
hiding the sunlight.
I will look back, contemplate
the summer I berated.
Too quick, the seasons,
too slow are the memories
that wrap around me –
Yesterday, pale white blossoms
drifted, today apples fall.
