Gray sky and green grass!

Barren oak trees looming over head

their leaves now lie on the frozen ground 

in colors of burnt siena and brown.

You can touch the freezing air with your eyes, and smell its freshness passing by.

The December moon that peered out from the fog last night

awaits tossing into the air from your fingertips, unleashed from an open fist.

The crunching sound of tiny pebbles underfoot as you step outside,

lingers in the stillness of silence, beckoning a storm.