Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Seasoned

Have you noticed
I season my morning coffee
with cinnamon, milk,
and mild complaints
about the weather,
cold winters, hot summers
solstices, too many supermoons
bestiality of politics
and being placed on
this third planet?

Silly me! After oodles of seasons,
just when I have become myself,
I’m looking for a bright sun,
wishing to begin again.

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Prompt: April 15--season