Trees stripped to bare branches
with leaves that swirl at their roots.
Stark blue skies, with a nip in the air,
chills me as I step outside in my boots.
Inside it is winter but I stoke my inner fire.
Although a season of death, it won't quell my desire.
A hope for life, a need for a reason to be.
Where has my hope gone? It remains to be seen.
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