The seasons come anew, each in its time, ordered
The remembrance, simply lost after years
I marvel how nothing’s disordered
Knowing galaxies have no frontiers
Silent planets, orbiting stars
Dark matter swirls between the spaces
Understanding neither mine, nor ours
What is it that decrees a sunbeam’s traces
History’s riches, roam lanes long gone by
Loves, lost to death, in misery’s grasp
Has grief yanked from your breast, that last breath sigh
Did the breath outstanding in its last aghast rasp?
Regret, old loves, that are now passed.
So long, shall a season last.

Mike.