White has taken over like a phantasm
of cold pain.
The snow slowly falls in silent waves
a quiet refrain.
Under a sky, scraped like fingers raked across skin,
leaving a red stain
The ground is cruelly hard, dark with death
and frozen rain.
The longing for green fills the field, my heart swelling
to remember.
The leaves bursting forth with life, with love, with sun,
early September.
Even then, the end was close against the edges, the wind ready
to dismember
the trees arms and limbs stretching their hands and fingers, soon to turn
to crimson brown embers.
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