In the silent winter,
trees turn to grey faced harlequin
'gainst colours that they used to be
reflected in the glowing snow
at their feet.
Sure, snow twinkles like crystal
or a softly ringing bell.
But how can that compare
to autumn's shout of colours
and weeping leaves?
As autumn is nature's great yawn
before the dead-eyed sleep of winter.
As now bone branches wave their final goodbye
as to move off the preceding year
but with the chance of a future hello
in the song of spring