On a bitter cold afternoon, far into the winter season, I sat and watched.

Leaves, lavished by the cold of the winter.

Where children used to play, the land was empty.
The trees so bare, skin exposed, no protection from the cold.
Why do the leaves fall? Why do the children leave?
The harsh winds feel like a slap in the face.
I see the branches, so naked and grim.
A tear shed from my eye.
There was no one there to play.
There was no one to climb with.
The afternoon turned to night, as the sun slowly set.
I prayed for spring to be sprung, and to grow back protection again.