Snowless Winter Woods

The oak trees are an endless sea of grey; The waves roll over hills until they melt Into a grey horizon under dim Midwinter skies. The world is sepia toned; The flowers in the glades no longer wear Their splendid summer colors. Dry and brown, They hold up their spent seed heads full of pride Because they have achieved their destiny. A dogwood tree lies cut, its swelling buds A promise that will never be fulfilled. Behind pale pointy palisades of reeds The lonely pond does still reflect the sky. December 14, 2016