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.