Wily Winter's War
Wily winter snowflakes dance
Upon the wind they rise
Whispering of how they brought
About Autumn’s demise…
But suddenly, the Sun awakes
And stretches out its beams!
The ice retreats into the ground
Joining the running streams.
The king of lights then summons forth
The flowers that he saved
To tell the story of just how
Harsh Winter’s hands he braved.
But pride engulfs the haughty king,
He fails to look around
And notice when the trees rise up
To take away his crown!
‘The shade shall rule!’ they shout with glee
While blocking out the Sun,
Who, saddened and ashamed retreats
Into the horizon.
The night descends, and with it, Cold
Upon the sleeping trees
Slowly, with their siren’s songs
They creep in like disease.
They never knew until they fell
That they had lost the war.
The children of the trees lie crumpled
On the stiffened floor.
Autumn also noticed naught
When stillness gripped its water
And Winter rose again to reign
After her silent slaughter.
© Rebecca M. Loomis, 2016
About this poem: I wrote this for a scene in my novel, A Whitewashed Tomb (in progress), and it is meant to depict the seasonal changes in the form of a narrative, as well as foreshadow the quiet way in which an antagonist can come to power.