Winter's Grace

The glory of autumn becomes a vision
   of the past
A solitary leaf falls and sings its
   final song

Barren trees stand naked in the cold
   stark landscape Barren
Heaped up jagged casts of frozen
   mire abounds

Then the fiercest of winter’s howling winds
   blusters forth
Laying tall proud trees to the ground, their roots
   exposed to die

Others forever disfigured by the stripping of
   their aged limbs
Only the youngest spared, remaining supple
   in the wind

Covering frozen mired footsteps, some misguided
   in former times
With once naked limbs clothed in white, an arbor
   of winter’s grace