Winter Chill

By Amaranth Rose

Wearily trudging upward, the sun grows daily weaker;

Tiredly toiling its way up to a pale, invalid noon,

Only to rush hastily back to bed, exhausted from the climb

Leaving Earth to suffer through the chill of Winter’s gloom.

The last bright leaves wither, darken, falling into darkness.

The hold of life is lessened, the grasp of darkness strengthens.

Frosty hanging breath heralds the icy bite of shadows;

Each day the trip is shorter, each night’s darkness lengthens.

Alone the defiant evergreen protests, sword-blade leaves held high,

Shoulders hunched with snow, pledging their love to the sun,

Waving their verdant tokens, supporting, encouraging

Their weary champion in his annual cyclic run.

At last a little sprightliness brightens his dragging steps,

Head held a little higher each day, he drives the cold away,

With the warmth of his regard and the power of his furnace;

Coaxing out new life to enjoy each newly expanding day.

Soon the blazing summer will feel the full-blown sun’s caress

Beneath its loving touch, cold Winter’s cruel insolence

Lies dormant in memory, a thing to prepare against;

Foresight is our greatest weapon when wielded in our defense.