I
don’t feel
the sun
caress my skin
the subtle tang of summer
Betrayed
upon the sylvan canopy
I
don’t feel
the wind
haunt my eyes
grazing the autumnal sphere
Impaled
phantoms on my scented brow
I
don’t feel
the frost
cloud my thoughts
winter motes captured
Distraught
fractal form amidst the dark
I
don’t feel
the blossom
taunt my crown
teasing vernal delight
Hindered
snagged by foretold ending
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