The First Breath of Winter

The first breath of winter hangs heavily in the air stilling all of nature in an instant unaware Oh the winds, they are to come Oh the winds, they are to blow The first breath of winter is yet innocent of the snow calls final falling leaf As the palette drains of color, poised to wear the whitened sheath. Oh the winds, they will be bold! The first breath is yet innocent of the cold A promise is made as the calendar pages, though the sun now turns away Summer is over and autumn is parting, yet even this chill cannot stay! The winds they are to sting! Yet the first breath of winter will become the breath of spring.