The Seasons

The season alters imperceptibly;

No  point  exact which demonstrates  the turn.

Yet soon come changes which our eyes can see

Leaves dry and crack, the acers seem to burn.

And so it is with human beings too.

Each day our loved one looks the same to us

And yet the body alters like leaves do.

Small changes made with neither noise nor  fuss.

We change into  transparent ghosts of self

Thus totter down the avenue of life

Soon death approaches with  its common stealth.

And separates  the husband  and the wife.

In winter all is black and we despair

Yet  deep in earth,worms  silently repair