Death is like winter
The ground lay hard as stone beneath a billowing blanket of snow
A north wind moans and blow bare limbs that scrap against shingles
Like a creature trying to get in

Sickness is like autumn
A burst of gold, orange and reds slowly fade to brown, falling to the ground
Helplessly they swirl about,
Until winter descends on them

Winter gives me peace
Autumn scares me.