By Shelly Seong
The cold air alone would have been tolerable.
The sharp winds make it unbearable.
It pierces through my pores
and permeates deeply into my core.
The violent tremble of the leaves
strips away the vibrant colors of orange, yellow, and red.
The bare naked tree
with ghastly arms of irregular branches
reach out to the bleak sky and embraces the looming frost.
As days get shorter and nightfall extends
the former colors of life dulls on the ground
and soon, the only pigment that you will see
is white- silent, placid, and reserved.
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