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The Fourth Season

Writer's picture: Theresa BaxterTheresa Baxter


T’was barely three weeks

We welcomed September

The fall has been lovely

It’s one we’ll remember

But a chill has set in

That I feel in my bones

The morning air carries

The ring of my moans

With the dawn of each morn

We move further away

From the summer we loved

And those lazy warm days

Towards grey and chilly

Those long months ahead

And temperatures dropping

And snow storms we dread

Two-thirds through September

Makes us down-in-the-mouth

As we envy our neighbours

That live further south

We unpack the woolies

The scarves, hats and mitts

Hope last year’s snow pants

Are found and still fit

But perk up and welcome

The inevitable snow

For there’s no use denying

It’s the way that things go

So as much as we grumble

We all live here for reasons

And for me it’s the pleasure

Of our four distinct seasons!

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