The Seasons We Might Call Our Lives

Reverberant anachronism
Strains of Tin Pan Alley lyricism
Played as through a 1940’s radio
(Twixt flashes on the fascist overthrow)
Before you were alive or even thought
Another world, a distant era caught
Between the seasons we might call our lives
While one young set of eyes somehow connives
To make it to a world of ice and snow
For whom old music conjures up no
Long ago

3 thoughts on “The Seasons We Might Call Our Lives

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