The sudden cardinal’s red
In the bare winter branches.
The autumn leaves fled.
A single flake dances
Its pirouette down
To the crisp dry bedding
That blankets the ground.
With the wan sun setting
Into the grey horizon stone
Under the lip of the cloud.
Cardinal with all color has flown
Before the soft settling shroud.
Somewhere I know spring will return
To us, and yet I fear
The months till our colors again burn.
Spring so distant, our winter so near.
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