Weather falling, feet grounded

I have nearly forgotten
about the discontent
I had
with the seasons
I somehow
was so attached to

attracted to
the most beautiful disasters
that seemed
to be
what was real
when really
all it was,
was really terrible

now, content
with the season
of winter
I will only
have the idle memories
of what was
and will no longer
play the role
of the haunted

seasons,
have only become
a change in weather
not a distinction
between reality
and memory

I don't miss anything