Seasons

I opened my eyes one spring afternoon

and found I could not breathe.

I thought I was alone

and that everybody leaves.

I closed my eyes one morning

praying for the end.

That June day, someone saw me

through my play-pretend.

I opened my eyes one midnight

and struggled to breathe in.

The August air hurt as much

as the ache of loss within.

I closed my eyes one evening

praying for the fall.

The heat of the summer had burned me

and made me lose it all.

I opened my eyes one winter's dawn

and found that I could breathe.

It was a struggle, but I've learned

I'm not alone; I've got me.