Seasons of Love

Anastasia Koutsivitis '25

The trees bare their skeleton in short lasting fright,

Leaves hit the ground in a shriveled brown,

I wonder how the sun will warm my face in the night-

With the axis of love turned away in a frown.

As the warmth filters in, my flowers start growing. 

Maybe I will not die or wither away yet? 

I hope that I can hold onto the seeds that are sowing,

The grass is greener here and I will not fret.

Sharp rays burn my skin as the months pass by 

The beauty of love has lost his softness 

I feel that I will shrivel even though I try 

Who knew that summer abandons all its sweetness? 

The crisp gold, brown, and yellow leaves show how I fare

Am I lost without him, or are my colors beautifully rare