Cold wind coming in,
Blowing harder, wearing thin
Subtle dispositions of thoughts of summer,
Gone now to winter storm's drummer,
Who beats in the death of spring and fall
And plays songs with dying leaves, and all
Things dead from this season's cold,
Ushering in a time of renewing bold
Wind planted seeds, that even changing,
Are always the same song banging
In a rebirth of earth's old soul,
While spring-like newness and embers cold,
Promise sun created blossom blooms,
With fragrant smells of familiar perfumes,
That are scented reminders, of new song's reason
For the new life beginnings of each new season.