Foreshadow of Winter
A dreadful whisper of frost;
Simple to recall from years past.
A cold tention breathed over by --
the recurrence of death;
Reassurance of beauty
Calling not to forget --
The peace found in the chaos of the wind’s fretful might,
like a murmur of the infant’s slumber --
The blooms that have grown;
Matured into a bolder utterance of themselves.
The breeze that teases them from Security;
Wisdom in falling as Necessity in parting.
Now, bound by the ceaseless waves of breath --
red a cry of joy at a life fulfilled--
Cast away by Season’s crucial hand;
Set apart for the Preface of Death as the Epitome of Life
They are let go,
Released as a fable to be conceived
by the futile will of time