We measure seasons by the shape of water.
From dew to frost, from rain to snow,
Water travels through the year-
A chameleon marker of time,
Of passing days and relentless progress.
The weight of water is carefully measured.
Small trickles of rain or snow or dew
Gradually etch their presence into buildings,
Into trees and stone.
You would think the metal would survive,
But after forty years, it is the trees and grass that bear
All previous signs of humanity ground
Into mossy debris.
Look out at the lawn and the delicate lacing-
Power is not force,
Slow change is an amazing force to watch.