Glints in a Winter Skyscape

Frost has cracked the sky, the air scintillates, fragments and splinters of light shred through layers of any a softer luminescence. Blue and white shrapnel bounce off a shattered vibrancy. A few autumnal leaf's slow burn, they are last embers, a crumbling rust whittles at thinning stems. Singularly, they fall sparking into invisibility. This morning the air is not broken, it is a fanfare of ice-pierced brightness. it's a stained-glass window as still, and as perfect as a prism set within a dragon's gleaming eye.