Of whispering winds and dismantled trees
come melodies split into harmony and creeds;
secret argots sung by the forest winds,
bending sounds through the barren limbs.
Winter’s etude is on the tongues of the balladeers
by the mothers of sorrow of the spilling tears,
the unforgiven haunting of which can’t be controlled
through the force of nature let the lore be told,
evoking the exodus of the emerald-colored leaves,
a song of lament is in winter’s paralyzing freeze.