Poem – Winter

Deep into December.  Cold sun breaks through greyed and empty clouds.  Bare skeleton trees hold the sky within elongated fingers.  The clouds speed across the horizon.

Deep into December and the frozen group is also bare.  Browned land looks scarred and neglected.

This season of death leaves open its secrets, the things we are not supposed to see.

Yet the transition, the process of nature, and the results are sublime.

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