My springs autumnal
And my summers are wintering
You’d never know the season I’ve left behind or now entering
Likely winter-long co-exists in with the spring
As the Autumn shade in a summer dress, manifests to a real thing
These seasons with no rules
Give them some kind of order
But my spring is autumnal
If you ever cross my border
With no tick to follow no tock
There’s no time to bury the clock
No sound and no seconds pass
Silent underneath the old greying grass
Look now, but nothing to hand
No force to stop our falling in the sand
No face, no clue, no trace
Blessed and released with no numerals to grace
No chime to reminisce
A speed of race that you can’t miss
As definite as an everlasting rock
Time to decide to bury the clock
I Eat Let.ers 