Season After Season, Year After Year

In the spring, cottonwoods spread
their seed in a snow of white cotton lint.

In the summer, rivers shrink and move
slower in the dry heat of a cloudless day.

In the fall, cattails break apart into seeds
and fly away on the wind like tiny birds.

In the winter, ice forms on shallow ponds
and tempts children to test its surface.

Season after season, year after year,
what was forgotten seems new once again.