Early Winter

Cool weather has come to pass

Sun is shining getting hotter at last

Gathering around the back patio for some chatter

He’s grown up now to them it does matter

The sun rapidly sinks now, the season this year was cut shorter

The icicle slowly drops into nothing, it seems like some kind of torture

With the seasons cut short there is no order

A cold hand reaches out with its might

And helps me make it to fields of bright white

Won’t be back now, I’m gone with the snow

For all it’s worth it must have been a good show