by Joan Moos
 
I count the years in lilacs
adorning the landscape each spring
with a fragrance that memory cannot deny.
 
I count the years by the red summer rose,
its beauty etched in my mind.
 
I count the years by the color and perfume
of the dry leaves of autumn,
crinkling beneath my feet.
 
I count the years by the clear air of winter,
reaching up my nostrils,
sharpening my view of the ice and snow crystals
sparkling in the crisp, cold air.
 
Seasons come and go . . .
blending into years . . .
Beauty begets memories . . .
Memories reflect a lifetime.
 
 More poems by Joan Moos can be found her book,
“To Soar: Life is an Attitude”
available in most online bookstores.