Kelsie

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.