62. March 3rd
A pane of glass frosted over,
During the cold long night.
A sheet of ice cold as death,
Blocking out the view.
As the sun breaks through the clouds
The ice appears to shatter.
Breaking up into many pieces,
Like a hot, dry, mud desert floor.
The day continues to wear on,
To the destruction of ice and snow.
The once solid ice is now water,
Running down the windowpane.
Everything we see cannot last,
All will one day come to an end.
Nothing can go on forever,
So all things are perishable, none eternal.