Mortuary and Metamorphosis‏

Easing out, the casing falls with a clatter.

I step away, I will greet you
Beyond me the mortuary holds me.
I sit with one, my summer death
White top complimenting the black skirt.
A spring one too, paler still against the blue. 
The autumn enigmatic yet, tired. And winter,
burnt out from a wait too long.
Adieu; adieu, I bring the new.
The old out with the old you.