By William Duke

When seasons change there’s nothing you can say,

sad fields grow longer filled with thistle now,

the silent sun falls faster every day.

Like buds in springtime nothing ever stays,

all grows and dies, see branches on the bough,

when seasons change there’s nothing you can say.

A yellow leaf from birch tree falls away,

the valley fills with cry of mournful cow,

the silent sun falls faster every day.

The apples fall and roadside smells of hay.

Beyond our fears and grief we must allow

when seasons change there’s nothing you can say.

Songbirds leave for some Belizean bay,

escape can be an option anyhow,

the silent sun falls faster every day.

The fence has fallen sheep have gone astray,

so many dreams and goals to disavow,

when seasons change there’s nothing you can say,

the silent sun falls faster every day.

William Duke is a part time resident of Andes