When the wind blows it rattles the last leaves
Letting the sun shimmer as it sets
with the endless shivering of the final auburn teardrops.
Snow has already fallen
Crisp, white, strong snow
Burying the roots in its insulating warmth.
Ghosts fade into the background of the forest
White bark turned to gray in the twilight
As stark branches claw against the breeze.
Yellow crowns have long since fallen
And now huddle beneath the blanketing snows
Not to return except as the yellow-green bursts of spring.
The soughing of the pines sings a song of defiance
blazing green against the whites and grays
With an endless roar of triumph in the silent winter night.
The moon blazons above their spiky boughs
As they sway against the falling snowflakes.
This is their season, their hour to guard.
White confetti falls on countless branches
shaping them with winter’s confections.
All sleep, save the watchful pine.
Dark purple clouds linger on this night, the longest night
As the forest awaits the sun’s rebirth
But for now all is still, and silent, in the frosty pre-dawn air.
The author, Sarah Paulus, is part of MoonPath CUUPS in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.