The Passing of Time

When winter passes
and spring flies by,
summer makes a short stop,
to say hello.
And up starts autumn,
once again.
Then, everything dies.
A complete cycle
is made,
time after time.
And with each season,
you return to a familiar place, but each time,
everything has changed, a little bit, or, maybe a lot.
You remember, something,
someone…
and the emptiness inside of you…
well, it fills up with sorrow,
and sadness overwhelms you,
but, you fight back the tears with the surrounding beauty, and
the colors wash your eyes, and you forget.
And every time after, you think you are alone, in a place,
and maybe you are, and maybe you aren’t.
A new face, or name,
a fresh encounter
You never know…
No one really does…
It’s the passing of Time.

GRB