Naïve spring,

So meek and curious,

Unfurling and growing

With all the beauty

Of childish wonder,

And all the innocence

Of untainted hope.

Lustful summer,

Hot and domineering,

Burning with desire,

and unspoken truths,

Pulsing with pleasure

And promises under

A blood red sunset.

Indecisive autumn,

Cool and pensive,

Stripping away

Memories with

Calculated efficiency,

But still clutching

Vibrancy's mask.

Sickly winter,

Bitter and troubled,

Carrying frigid

Undoing on its wind,

And leaving frozen tears

On cheeks, once

Flushed and tender.