Being Old

Tree limbs merry with song

And tiny bursting buds

Tulips will

Soon Bloom

In spring

As daylight lingers long

Mosquitos buzz about

Roses fill

Each Room

In Summer

Darkness meets the dawn

Colors begin to fade

Frost kills

Costumes

In Fall

Snow covers up the lawn

A misty world of gray

Winds chill

Death looms

In Winter

About Anna Pizzulo Moyer

Creative Writer-Property Manager-Lover of Animals, Plants and People.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Being Old

  1. Suzy says:

    Exactly the way I feel in the winter. You have utterly captured the seasons

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