The sunrise spills a copper glow
 Upon the frosty earth below,
Illuminating wisps of white
 Which fill the hollows overnight
And wander free with gentle flow
 Until persuaded by the light.

As dawn reclaims the mottled sky,
 The feathered wings of summer fly 
O'er wilted flowers strewn in rows
 In garden paths where nothing grows
And chase the season passing by 
 Before the frigid nights impose.

The trees grow thin with stoic grace,
 Revealing empty nests in place
By shedding leaves with mild regret
 On picnic tables, cold and wet,
Their colors gone without a trace
 From sketches drawn in silhouette.

In preparation for the cold,
 The landscape fades to shades of gold
While crickets chirp a last refrain
 'Til only memories remain
And poems of springtime still untold
 Await a trace of vernal rain.