Christiana Weisel
Why do I linger; give me a reason—
Everything's passing me by in a season.
Smoke wisps up from the remains of homes,
everything burns without hope in this season.
Behind the crimson trees, sunlight is waning,
bidding me golden farewell for a season.
Rows of granite stones jutting through snow,
marking what's buried for more than a season.
In my hand, the lilies nod their heads gracefully,
a gentle innocence that disappears in a season.
And who like a wise owl is searching for reason,
with life flying by as swallows flee the season?
Bio
Christiana Weisel is a former army oboist who has traveled the world, but now lives in Texas with her family and a small flock of chickens. Her poetry been published in The Fib Review and The Esthetic Apostle.