The Dead of Winter:

The trees of autumn are naked now
Colors have  faded and gone
Shades of brown and amber
Hoar frost spider webbed upon the ground

The fields are gold and trampled down
Old wagon wheels broken and gray
Leave traces of their history 
Their usefulness has withered away

My breath upon the Northeast wind
Toes and fingers aching from the cold
Yonder upon the fencepost hangs a sign
For back taxes this property sold

Once thriving you could hear the heartbeat
Pounding throughout this hearty land
Now stand the ghosts of yesteryear
And this mere shadow of a man

The chill has eaten thru to the bone
All hope of life has splintered
My time will come as the fading winter sun
To dwell among the dead of winter

Boondocker 8/25/01