Winter:
Inside the embers glow in the grate
While the garden quietly suffocates in snow.
Spring:
The ice is melting!
The snow forgets what the birds remember,
A living root dispels December!
Summer:
The heat disfigures the soil.
The sun glares angrily
Till the clouds sweat tears.
Autumn:
Summer is over,
The moon strips the trees of leaves
And paints their bark with silver starlight.
John Thorkild Ellison
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-calendar/
