Weather

When I was a girl of ten or so
A wise lady told me to appreciate
Seasons and the weather each brought.
She was a professional teacher of
Immatures, such as I was then but am not now.
She knew how and taught me,
Those wise notions of hers.
To this day I remember what she taught me
To this day I miss four seasons.
To this day I miss small town life
To this day sameness bores me.

Would I have learned to be a little
More like her, a teacher
To my own immatures.
Grace, I have never forgotten you.