After autumn's leaves depart, the branches
hang like spiders after dark, impending
winter moons and ice: The night advances.
Silence echoes the silently standing
trees. Ravens sail upon the frosted breeze,
and the small burrow for the longest sleep.
A cold rain collects in puddles of unease,
The naked forest unobscures a deep
uncertainty about tomorrow,
And the foxes speak in quiet snowfall voices
of the days that were and will be hollow,
Lanterns light a carriage.              Doubt rejoices.
In the dusk black vegetation spreads like cracks
in glass. The carriage scratches tracks
into a muddy past.