Each season has its reason
To venture out alone beyond each play
New domain to unknown foreplay
Who can teach old mule new tricks?
Revise recipe for a tested old cake mix
What if I can’t keep up with your mare?
Or the latest hairstyle studio nightmare
These tired legs of mine wobbly and frail
Whose tale to follow if I lose my trail?
Life cycle seasons my leather watch
Analog or digital drunk on swatch
Blur vision the ticking seconds
One more gray hair truly beckons
Timeline framed in its follicle
Woe is me becomes my chronicle
Youth pokes fun at ears less audible
Life cycle cycles sad if not comical
Turn; turn, human fate does even
It is written: each season has its reason
Finally my score has found it season
Blame not destiny it has no treason!
January 20, 2013
Copyright Leaking Pen 2013