Seasons change the atmosphere,
Seas expanse is so vast,
‘Tho nature’s wind can blow me near,
A thought, a prayer, draws me past.
Here the story in part is told,
Of cycles changing and revolution,
A new view with beauty bold,
Nature’s bounty’s a distribution.
Try capturing the change with a photo,
A picture now without a crease,
A stable moment held in toto,
Then, gone the season, leaving peace.
Take this timeless seed or harvest,
Accept the pace to plant or reap,
‘Tho your touch remains the farthest,
Still the rhythm: a magnanimous sweep.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.