To Winter
The last leaf falls,
Swinging in the breeze.
When, finally, it feels the ground,
A cold frost grows
Through the rocks and pines.
A dread swallow up
The last of the blossoms.
And the birds shiver,
Knowing what comes next.
Silence swallows
The thick white air
And a rush of chill
Tells the sun to dim.
Winter has come.