Skeletal trees
With their barren, scraping bows
Shiver and sway in the half light,
Branches desperately reaching  skyward
Aching to reclaim the golden leaves
That Winter stole in it's bitter rage
Clawing and tearing
At the faded warmth and
Cloaking the world in its
Deadened, icy shadow.
Autumn's gilded age
In it's evanescence
Dissolves into a turbid dream
And shrivels in the ice
Grasping the delicate remnants
Of a time long past and sifting
Through ancient forests of memory
Lost in the glittering particles
Of a fierce December storm.