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Skeletal Season
The skeletal season begins its descent,
Wiping out the once vivid hues that filled the world around us,
Draining the brightness from the leaves that once swayed with life,
Until they fall to the ground, cold and stiff.
The season captures the normally airy blue sky,
Replacing it with a dark grey mass,
Swirling over our heads as though it was a hurricane.
It's grasp freezes the air,
Siphoning the oxygen from our lungs.
Eventually it will lift itself from us,
Reluctantly returning the bits and pieces of spring to us.
For now,
We face the skeletal season.

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This piece is about winter and the feeling that winter gives me.