Seasons

 

You can’t keep everything that’s beautiful:

Fall’s first red leaf popping brightly beneath

the green, a hidden gem waiting for death

to reveal a new type of beautiful life.

 

The crawdads splash, pitters on the water.

You can’t keep everything that’s beautiful,

the ripples seem to say. A child’s net

courses through the creek to catch little lives.

 

Crystal lights reflect on fallen snow. White

turns gray, trodden with heavy boots, reminding:

you can’t keep everything that’s beautiful,

only wait until the next storm comes.

 

A baby’s first cry, etched on waiting ears

pierces the untouched places of hearts.

But time always swoops away moments held dear.

You can’t keep everything that’s beautiful.