Look at the changes as Nature prepares to slumber. You’ll see Skeletons everywhere. They remind us of how death is a major part of life. Rest well, and be ready for re-birth.
Ever notice how bare trees look like skeletons?
In a Winter’s wind is the Dance Macabre.
Are they animated by the residual warmth of Summer,
Or are they at the mercy of Old Man Winter?
Look at an old partially decayed leaf
It’s veins are still there like a skeleton
Through these veins Summer’s life flowed
Now they just remind us of the past.
Summer’s seed heads who bow to release their load
Or crack open for downy parachuted seeds
To seek new lives on the breath of the wind
Are bony remnants of dying Summer.
Even abandoned bird nests of sticks and grass
Appear skeletal against the sky.
The young have fledged, leaving only
A Summer home, a rotting tenement.
As we wait under heavy gray skies of WInter
For the return of warmth and sunshine’s glow
The skeletons of Summer are proof that
Flesh will again appear.