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WINTER'S CLAWS.
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NATURE Winter has sprung in
like a lion on its prey,
choking the warm breath
from a struggling land,
gnawing at the remaining
carcass of Autumn.
Weeping sky mourns loss
of a kindly, generous sun
forced to withdraw in defeat
to a distant territory.
Raw breath of winter
exhales through gaunt trees,
divested of their seasonal splendour
standing stark against a bleak skyline.
Dawn brings a pageant of crystal,
glittering, icily beautiful,
in the chilly light.
Mutinous clouds hover,
dumping their burden of freezing drops,
while an angry wind
tears fiendishly
in its effort to destroy.
Winter's claws are sharp!
