Winter Reflections on a Window’s Pane

I used to believe
everything died in winter

used to believe that i wanted hibernated dreamms
till life reutrned

now
on the warmside of this window pane
i find the trees to be somehow more real
naked
and yet unfraid

the leaves
recently splendid in amber and gold
have gone to ocher
and rust

the crying out on their part
was coming from me
not them

i look upon this winter scene
and my own reflection is ghosted on the window

a face not unlike my own
smiles

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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