Winter

At the onslaught of winter stripped of their possessions trees stand in silent prayer.

Grey clouds hang low just above the black trees as if to kiss them goodbye

The milky white glow of moon creates a longing

Is it possible to reach out to unknown?

I get no answer in that cold and still night.

Flowers huddled together still spread their fragrance

Soon the merciless frost of winter will kill the bloom.

Gofers in my backyard have created mounds of dirt to settle deep in warm earth.

Standing by the door I watch a little spider struggling to sneak through-

It spreads a chill in my spine.

When and where life will close its door upon us?

In the rush of life the question gets pushed aside

Like the unopened junk mail on kitchen table.

I turn my thoughts to burning flames of fireplace

The warmth of life circulates in room with an orange glow
      Comforting and reassuring-

Come spring life will shower again its grace upon my back yard

Returning with fresh flowers, fruits and leaves.