A year against my windowsill

Winter began, the snow fell peacefully
I watched through tight shut windows
It never fascinated me, though it went on.
It fell regardless of who watched, who stared.
It fascinated me, but no one cared.

I watched the snow drip like water
On the frosted spring chilled windows
It never fascinated me, though it dripped on.
Like magic, the fields turned green from white.
It fascinated me, and I slept at night.

Summer scorched my eyes, it was bright and warm
The grass turned gold from green and died
  It never fascinated me, though it passed on.
The day, it grew so long, I watched outside my window
It fascinated me, as length took on my shadow

Like fire now, my field turned red and brown
As Autumn filled my still shut window
It never fascinated me, though it blazed on
I called out, to stop the fire, the green that burned away
It fascinated me; they ignored my plea to stay

Time passed that year against my windowsill
Color by color, grain by grain it went
That never fascinated me, though it ticked on
The views and thoughts and times I had, they faded from my memory
And it fascinated me, but no one cared for my story.