A Transition: Summer to Winter

A harsh cold brushes the gentle warmth aside
The leaves blow off the trees and fall gently
Brown and green slowly begin to collide
As the darkened grass listens intently
A clear, blue sky is now being hidden
Clouds are like crayons that color the world grey
Rain falls and the sun’s warmth is forbidden
The sun cries, “Clouds, why have you turned me away?”
The animals sing a similar tune
They ready themselves for a long sleep
Gathering food under the stars and moon
As loud as a snowflake, the creatures creep
The dawn of the end has quickly arrived
Only stillness and quiet have survived