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Blight

December’s ashes dress the dawn

Stained

The world in grey embers bathed

Death

Comes

Cloaked in white

Mist

Fell

In the gathered gloom

The garden

Scant dying light crawls

I walked

Beckoned by bitter winds

Death

Comes

Cloaked in white

Mist

Fell

In the winterwood

In silence

To a long and slow decay

And watched

Cold sun clutching at stars as they fade

The last leaf

A pale echo in a boundless tomb

Fall

Death

Comes

Cloaked in white

Mist

Fell

In the gathered gloom