Hemlocked Heart

Harsh winds, snow reached mountains in the east
Frosty hands reaching through evergreen trees
Carry whispers of creation, a wild, crystalline beast
Time slows still under blankets locked with icicle keys

Harsh winds, downhill lies autumn not yet deceased
Cream soda trees dipped in pumpkin spiced tragedy
Coat every corner of this foothill basin in mulled treats
Birds sing of rainstorms, age old epics recounted in a cozy sea

Harsh winds blow in to steal leaves, dance and feast
They harold Winter searching on her ancient journey
She  may come in a week, a blink, or an hour at least
In a flash, golden of autumn she’ll devoured completely