In winter running

 In Winter running through the past

What lives are these, these lives that last?

And turn fresh leaves into the grass

What lives are these, these lives that last?

In summer, blossom crowns the crows

And all black death goes rolling home

When bones are dug and bonanzas known

What lives are these that rest in stone?

In winter running through the spring

Time's tap runs fast, what joy life brings

But in these days of autumn glass

I see darkly, dimly how all things pass

In winter running through the trees

Brave squirrels defending terroritries

And crouching ducks waddle down the lawn

As I walk out soon just past dawn

In winter running summer's sand glass

Hours, minutes, seconds pass

But I count no grains

For no grain lasts

Except the truth, yet no shadows it casts