December Festivals just hover,
We’re in late autumn almost
At the doorstep, winter rover
Ready for nature’s riposte
Just a delectable chill in the air,
The wind has bite and tingling cold
On the windows, frost dancing where
There is the breath of icy cold.
The grass brittle in early morning
Slight smell of nature’s decay
Soil hardens and leaves plumbing
To the ground to face winter’s play
A wondrous beauty of this season
Sad beauty but powerful and moving
Though tinged with taste of loss even
Beauty of transitory nature’s blessing.