Pushing Daisies

It is always the nature of these things

Spring and Summer
twined
bending over
backwards
locking petals to leaves
pressed against the still grass wind

peaceful it seems
almost saccharine
It is always the nature of these things

Winter blows harsh kisses
In adoration
Biting as it reaches
the death of tall oaks and petals and leaves
Making fires seem warmer
smiles sweeter
and hidden below the burns
you rest

Beautiful it seems
almost frightening

In the shifts and fumbles
of sky and waves
both lost in the faces of moon
Summer
always falls
in love with the notions of love
and Winter, stubborn in honesty
will always be cold.