Seasons Search
12. Seasons Search
Rick's Saga Song

I loved a girl in winter, though Sitting in an August orchard,
In February’s thaw our love Having lost all lust, a tortured,
Fell off forlorn like icicles Sultry, sulky youth
From afternooning eaves. With naught to do but lie and laze,
She kissed me, maid of spring and sprightly, There came a man in coveralls-
Not unkindly, quite politely, He seemed to be a lover of all life
Laughing evanesced And as he saw me out
Into the limey-dimey leaves. His cheerful voice he raised:
Thinking that there must be more, “Glory in the golden sunshine;
Not knowing I was looking for the love I’d lost Gather grapes and make sweet wine.
I searched a season, set my heart at ease. For Son, you know the nights
Will soon be longer than the days.”
I searched on cheery city nights And saying this he picked himself
Of liquor laughter pretty lights, A pocketful of apples,
But friends and busy men And whistling disappeared
Could not outweigh the bleary days. Into the silver August haze.
While I searched, it seemed they’d found.
They’d pass me by eyes on the ground, I met a woman in October
Like polished marbles fallin’ through With my season almost ovesr,
some molded plastic maze On a dusky hilltop
Overlooking everywhere.
On a summer sailboat ride, Words of greeting had we none:
Shiftless, drifting with the tide By silent, secret marks we knew
Between the sky and sea We’d found a place for winter,
a playful dolphin circled me. And we’d see each other there:
Of silent rounds he had his fill, Casting slender shadows
Then smiled and did a belly roll In the cold November sun,
And flashing plumbed the greening depths Throwing out sharp shadows
of crystal mystery. In the gold November air.
I dove to follow,
Swallowed only blue salinity.

Sitting in an August orchard,
Having lost all lust, a tortured,
Sultry, sulky youth
With naught to do but lie and laze,
There came a man in coveralls-
He seemed to be a lover of all life
And as he saw me out
His cheerful voice he raised:
“Glory in the golden sunshine;
Gather grapes and make sweet wine.
For Son, you know the nights
Will soon be longer than the days.”
And saying this he picked himself
A pocketful of apples,