Winter Song

Almost gone,
How naked the branches look
Once clothed in green, now a riot of brown

When wind turns to rain
How sad those two last flowers
Sunlight cascades, unhindered

Apples fall from the interlocking branches above,
Bruised apples, once rosy, now flat and dark
Flat where it should be rounded
Scattered on the frosted green

Wind composing a song,
Autumn breeze and leaves come together
choreograph late May’s final dance

Talk of winter now,
Crackling fire, overcrowding the home
A tiny sun

The air, frozen on my skin
Winter beauty
Every cutlass of grass, now icicles
Autumn leaves, devour.