The sky is bright, stars appearing on cue,
Shadows of night reflected on tree tops.
Heavens a dazzling, shimmering blue,
Fingers of frost seek the last of the crops.
A baby cries in the chill calling out,
Wind whips across silky hair and bright eyes,
The moon peppers the night, its light in doubt,

Clouds roll and dance across endless skies.
An owl wooshes past hungry and alone,
Dogs howl into the black, a mournful song.
Dew drops settle on grass no longer grown,
Leaves fall that have stayed mounted too long.

With the night winter has at long last come,
Welcome news for many, bad news for some.