The Bones of Winter

Shivering cold
Cobblestone road
Slipping on diamonds and silver

A funeral for the leaves
A eulogy in the breeze
A hymn for the bones of winter

The geese have already
Buried their heads
And a full moon over mine
Tells me it's time
To start thinking about hibernation

First nap in the night
And the first crack in the ice
Of the pond
And the first lights of the season

When the children have already
Buried their heads
It's quiet, alone, cobblestone road
Waits for the first snow of December

A song for the dead leaves
The brine and the breeze
A poem for the bones of winter