Moving on

The spider spins a lonely web
My friend the guitar sits quietly in the corner
and you could write your name
on those pictures there
The rafters creak
the beams settle
the plaster cracks
father time makes love to mother earth-
and I am moving on.

The way things were at one time
is like a season
while it's here, you yearn for the next
until it is gone
Only in the heat of summer
do you fully appreciate the coolness of spring
and only in the dead, cold, barrenness of winter
do you miss the color of fall-
I am moving on.