We watch in awe as nature reveals the view,
leaves fall in flurries, beguiling tears yearn,
a striptease, a beautiful striptease, slowly revealing
all the magnificence, an extraordinary display
of chutzpah, to show the deepest ravishing landscapes
at the trees expense, just hollow ghosts now,
stark against deepest glowing low winter sun,
the last pastel blues an endless prophecy of some
distant future, this beautiful melancholy, this majesty,
this terrible beauty, as bitter winds blow winter.

We feel alive as we see our breath as spectres,
surreal sunrise mysteries into the freezing air,
breathing out our ghosts, lung fragments of regrets,
noticing every crunch of ground, every jewel
glinting on the dewy grass, every spiders web
caught by bright sunshine, diamonds mesmerising
and enticing, fool’s gold, but we are not fooled,
touch them and they disappear, despair, despair,
we are aware, of every single heightened moment,
by auburn miracles cascading, summoning us to sleep.