My leaves turn <br />from envy <br />to shades of dying flames. <br /> <br />They dance and dangle <br />to a concerto played <br />by Fall’s tyrant orchestra. <br /> <br /> The last leaf <br /> <br />....... f <br />.........a <br />............l <br />..............l <br />................s <br /> <br />and a s-k-e-l-e-t-o-n <br />I am amongst them all, <br />baring and feeling more <br />then the sun's scorn! <br /> <br />Winter— <br />my acrid friend, <br />greets me with her <br />solidified utterance, draping <br />her icy gown <br />upon my skyward tendrils. <br /> <br />And she hides <br />in the mist of her breath <br />the sun <br />waiting to exhale <br />Springs gentleness. <br /> <br />Petrified, I am held <br />in her acrimonious embrace.<br /><br />Tracey Hardie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winters-edge/
