A Short Winter

Poetry

Spring. It passed you by; you did not learn,

Because it seemed to last so long.

For at the time of youth you yearn

To grow and sing a manly song.

Summer. The time to work, to be a man.

But it, too, passes. Too soon you realize

That all you’ve done is all you can.

The heat is gone; it passed before your eyes.

Autumn. Her beauty can and should be long.

You smile at youth. You savor every breath.

‘Tis the golden part, the sweetest song.

And it should last ’til near to death.

Old Winter should be short, and end while life is dear.

For you see ’tis not the death, but the dying that I fear.

Teacher Doesn’t Always Know Best