It was the autumn love died; when late summer drought browned the pastures premature and early frost killed the leaves of the woods that fell without color or splendor in transition.
Bleak winter followed: colorless and dry until late snows fell and stayed heavy on the earth.
Beneath, the world was changing. That was what he told himself.
World would change. Spring would come: new season for color, life, and love.
That was what he told himself as snow stayed and he lived the cold of winter’s hold.