Passing Seasons.

Her little voice ran through my mind 
Like memories soon lost in time 
A distant dream was all she knew 
Before the truth of life broke through 

Somewhere she had lost her way 
Within the dark, foreboding day 
And snow began to settle down 
Amid the sad, untraveled town 

Seasons are a lonely place 
Knowing that one can't retrace 
The fleeting of a fancy there 
Or ribbons tied in golden hair 

I met her on a windswept day 
As breezes took the dream away 
Her little voice had thawed my heart, 
Before the cold of fall did start.