The March of the Seasons

pale doe, summertime:
tree tongues in their thousands 
curl upon themselves, sunburnt
edges creak beneath a hot, heavy
downpour - momentary reprieve.

shadow crow, autumntime:
slow fall the leaves of the wood-weeper,
willow tree, who tenderly muses its song, the
silence of a ministry where winged 
things take to the skies, bearing carrion
from a faded destiny - begotten.

dappled mare, wintertime:
frost-crust shatters beneath gentle
pressing, reveals puckered purple shoots
of bruised and battered feed - cold
lips caress the susurration.

maple fair, springtime:
while the gentle winds spread themselves, scars
burrow through the earth to delight in the death
of old and birth of new. tattered limbs are reaching,
unfurling soft green tongues - love echoes in the 
whispers they drop from on high.