Winter’s Shroud

Chattering leaves danced to their death

in the gusts of autumn wind,

Wending their pathway to eternity perhaps

As they sighed and fluttered their last breath

under the dying embers of a waning sun.

They whispered in excitement while they were dancing

in anticipation of what was yet to come.

 

Cold, rainy tears dripped from forlorn trees,

Bare with longing for the gaiety of their leaves

Now lost to winter’s creeping frosts.

Crackling twigs concealed mice

hurrying to their warm dens

beneath the earth’s encasing, rotting canopy.

 

The trees waited in solemn patience,

not needing to explain their existence,

dark twiggy branches twisted skyward,

Gently flirting with the icy wind.

that breathed eternity over winter's vigil.

 

Breath froze, suspended in the cloying air

as everything drew to a graceful close.

The sky scattered white frozen crystals

that carpeted the earth with an ice shroud.

The trees stood silent, in acceptance of their fate

And the crackling stopped as heart beats fell to nothing.

 

Winter came and we wept.

 

We wept for the dancing leaves

Who had taken secret blessings to their graves.

© Iona Waters