Wind and Rain

Ron Koppelberger

Wind and Rain

The seasons were hemmed in by the hollow theater of chartered draft, of gentle record and by riots of managed solitary surge. It was a spattering of keep, a sufficient reverie in tallies of accepted power. The seasons understood the wind, rain and sunshine, a layer of rational in shape and form, the seasons balanced the distance between melancholy and discovery, tumble jumble acquiescent autumn expectation and sleek stories that moan for symbols of destiny.
The tended fires of summer yield and the shadows in winter majesty, a rehearsal for the passing of reason and secret, the heed of sustenance and famine, the beauty of a best and a daughter in betrothal to the tales of solstice a page that remains to be renewed.