You asked for summer –
And it’s at your threshold,
In robes of burning leaves
Of dry, exhausted soil
/
Afraid of heat and draught,
You begged for autumn
And, crying rains, it came
To wail outside your door
/
Scared of its open wounds,
You called for winter
Who, like a blizzard, swift
All ice, distress and cold,
/
Appeared, but it was spring
You thought you wanted:
Capricious, lukewarm, shy
It came, but you recoiled
/
You locked your home,
Inventing a fifth season,
Which looked like summer,
Smelled like autumn herbs,
/
Which had the grace
And fierceness of a winter
And laughed, like spring,
At your uncanny jokes