Cycles and Seasons


A cry, she’s born, and then she’s grown,

flown from the nest, and yet, my child

beguiled, I remain, her loving parent,

transparent, apparent to all.

Walls cannot separate, or part,

heart to heart we stand united,

delighted. Yet I’m daughter, too,

whose mother ages. Round and round

bound in time, the seasons go, and

grand is life, though quick it passes.

Grasses turn green, then brown. A sigh,

a cry, she’s born, and then she’s grown.


This is a circular poem in response to Jane Dougherty’s poetry challenge. The theme was cycles and circles. The prompt was the photo at the top, but perhaps my photos express it better.





27 thoughts on “Cycles and Seasons

  1. I liked this circular poem very much, Merril. I am like you, a daughter who is a mother of two daughters.
    Your mother, you and your daughters all look like share several of the same family traits. ❤
    My oldest daughter (a "girly" girl while growing up) has two boys, Micah and Skyler. No girls, so my cycle isn't quite the same. My son had two girls, as an ironic twist of fate, plus an adorable son. 🙂

  2. Pingback: Poetry challenge Circles and Cycles: the entries – Jane Dougherty Writes

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