Leaves had rustled in Fall, bidding a goodbye.
Branches now creek and weep;
looking deserted & bleak,
squirming to cover their denuded limbs.
A chill in the air, a hastened misty breath
freezes my anguish into a frosted sigh,
alighting gently to the ground
with snow flakes.

That frozen moment resonates with me,
my limbs aching in the chills,
cold lips cracking like the bark; and
nails tinged blue in frost.
I search for a flint, hoping for respite_