moving

and winter, on its cold way

doesn’t know things have changed

only people are rearranged

and quietly lost in the play 

blanketed with fallen snow

the landscape really doesn’t know

that its friends have packed and gone

the final caress, gentle footsteps at dawn 

and peeking through the frigid early sky

not the smallest inkling disturbs the sun

for it neither cares or wonders why

we throw it a tearful kiss and run

neither can we know what to perceive

as we sadden at the life we leave 

Barry DeCarli

From Of Sun and Rain

Copyright 1972 Barry DeCarli