The Cold is The Winters Splinter
The pain which marks the season
Yet The Chill is The fourth Changes Splendor
The marvel of metamorphosis
We live in
A larval colony stuck on loop
Caterpillar
Butterfly
Caterpillar
Golden skies
give way to Grey
Which concedes to Blue
Until rainy days
rear their head
And attempt to hold on
Though they know
They will be vanquished
By The Sun
Seasons…