The Seasons’ Change

I die every Spring

After a Winter of hibernation.

The Summer sun bleaches my skeleton,

Clean and dry and ready to house my soul again.

Which drips as Autumn rain, quenching my parched bones.

And I am alive again;

With falling leaves to blanket me on my way back to my long slumber.

an animal skull on a bed of dry autumn leaves and twigs

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Maggie Greenwood

diarist, educator, lover of coffee and cats, physicist recovering from a decade of academia, training in the art of weaponized autism PFP: djarn on picrew.me