It's Still Life

Hunters in the Snow: The Trees

The gales stripped the trees
of every autumn-ambered leaf.
Oh, how they howled
in that biting steel cold.

Such were those long winter months.
Our spring brought not green,
nor blue to sky, and fish froze
in streams as they swam.

Spiders died in their webs,
caught in rims and spines of ice.
And the sun, glassy-eyed, held
every gaze in a sugary white.

Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.