WHAT goes away comes back again someday.
Though forms be ever changing, undulant,
And summer yields at length to that coolant
That brings bare winter, on its hands and knees,
With its harsh mockery of what was breeze;
That sends the birds to flee, the soul to freeze.
But season comes to season, creek to bay,
And once again what seemed to go away
Returns: it will, I know, I guarantee it:
It’s just that we may not be there to see it.