I was a bream on
Summer days when boats on lakes
Did drown in radiant sun,
I scantily clothed did ski upon
The surface of olive waters.
I was a part-way-er
In the glorious golden ruby
Of Fall when bedded
In fresh fallen leaves lying
On fading brittle grass.
As Winter came, a storm,
I was a bundle scarcely knowable
For layers framed me in;
Snow, though seldom, was my friend
With its kind spherical men.
When Spring sang love aloud
I was called from my long idle
Embracing the soil, sky, clouds,
That brought me smudged to be washed
After hours of running wild, a rush.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
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