A Constant

    Only a few months walk their path alone.  December passes it's torch to January.  March and April call forth the hope of days to come.  May, June, and July bring the fallen back to life, October and November grant rest and peace to all of those who have labored so long and hard.
    February is desperation's wasteland, longing for a love that's lost, and so hard to find again.  August sits silently weeping, for her heart is broken with the remembered knowledge of days past and times to come.  September stands sentinel, as the final guard to pass, with tired eyes and outstretched hand, waiting to guide those who are left towards an uncertain future.