Was it the Spring;
verdant grass and bicycles,
retreating snow drifts
running?

Was it the Summer;
sun kissed skin peeling like wallpaper,
snow cones and ice cream,
the school year a rising heatwave far
away?

Was it the Autumn;
piles of leaves from dead trees,
restless evenings in costume,
warm drinks and warmer friends,
arriving, though we know not where
from?

Was it the Winter;
snow forts and ice skates,
long sober hills on steel sleds,
Styrofoam clouds of frozen breath,
a mumbling fire near a warm bed?
Was it any one thing or was it
everything?