Bitter

Fleeting sun
spurs on winter,
drawing in it's carriage of
silver.

Stinging air whistles
the same repetitive music,
weaving thin strands
of sugar-white through
naked trees.

Songless skies,
no longer drone
with lazy warmth,
and echo emptiness

as the frozen sun

shrinks

with every

shrinking day,

a sponge
drawing the light away.