Sometimes I forget myself…
Sometimes I remember…

Sometimes I’m the rainy fogs
that gray the late November

Sometimes I’m the open skies
Julys arise to say

And other times I’m tighter lipped
Just warming– If I May

Oh warm the very, very, very
quiet heart of January

Then rise into a slow and steady March

Await what life shall now entrust you
Until the gusts of August thrust you
down from up the arch

For come the cusp of late October
Spirits flown shall leave you sober
One more year of life is over
And what have you to bring?

The bottled tears of yesteryears
And a dream anew in Spring