drafty breezes feel
as restless as butterflies
looking forward to
the new spring and i
feel compelled to voice
my opinion that it's going
to be a long wait
what with winter dragging
its breath unevenly
behind the slow roll
of fiery autumn

you won't see the season
blazing here in this park
olive trees just never want
to wrap themselves in
any other color
but the dull green
somewhere in another corner
of the world
rows of trees shrouded
in oranges and reds
stand in somber for eyes
to roam and marvel