Winter (a kyrielle)

The leaves have turned a bitter red
And woods smell like slow rotting dead
With rancid odors in the air.
The winter brings fresh views to share.

These stripped down branches will be white.
The moon will glow will special light.
When darkness seems too much to bear,
The winter brings fresh views to share.

The beaver work in wooded dens
And tree limbs fill with grousing hens.
Fox sneaking, hunting Snowshoe hare;
The winter brings fresh views to share.

-

Alison