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.