Deathly cold

The trees stand
brave
naked
resilient
against the cold gray sky.

Silhouettes
of fortitude
and determination
they sway
and dance
in the piercing
frigid wind.

The day
is frozen
in time
looped back upon itself
like a knot.

The dead leaves
covering the ground
crackle
underfoot
to remind the traveler
that his travels
have ended
right where
they began.

The point
of origin.

The scene
of the crime.

The home
that is not.

The day
is in mourning
for the mornings
of yesterday

and tomorrow
cackles
with sadistic
anticipation.