At the start, a flute
piping a too cheerful melody;
a march into the unknown by
a soldier set on showing
bravery in battle.
A slow to ponderous as the
enemy is seen in angry, late
winter grabbing the second
layer cellos, busy lamenting
the cold and pain of shaken
branches.
By degrees, the cellos fade to a whisper
while the clarinet begins singing,
the end of winter in long, sad notes.
Trying for hope in a melody of
laced sweetness.
The horns enter full of bluster,
vigorously shaking whole trees,
waking blooms and insisting the
leaves uncurl. Violins begin their
answer, volume increasing to
announce Summer, silent
through the heavy air of night.
Fall starts up with startling drums;
a thrumming subsiding to a steady
voice, picking up speed and force
for the taking over; burying
leaves in piles, turning green
grass to dried. Announcing the
morning colder with an boomed
alarm of drums softening
to a faint, daily tap.
At the drumming edges,
white clouds drop in a layer
to the horizon and the piano
begins with single, full notes;
merging into a formal melody
and a new song as white flakes
fall in Winter's time.
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