I can feel my mood shift as the seasons change,
as the leaves fall and the roses wilt,
as the sun shines and the garden blooms yet again,
and my hopes along with it.
Maybe if I was indifferent to the change and the wilted remains things would be better.
Or maybe I needed to love them so that I would be waiting for its return in fairer weather.
Am I foolish or delusional to be this hopeful?
