Early Freeze

Submitted by Ann Christine Tabaka

Frozen on the vine.
Ground hard as rock.
November freeze comes early,
breathing death on all.
Earth still,
nature reticent,
refuge sought.
Promises no longer on the wind.
Seasons shifted overnight.
Wilted specters of yesterday
hang their lifeless heads.
Colors drained.
Browns and grays win out.
Early winter on the cusp,
as cold ravages all.
Memories whisper in
the shadows left behind.


 

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Photo Credit: Place Pigalle, Winter Evening by Edouard Cortes

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