Goodbye, my sun
As the leaves burn brown
and rage in a riot of red
The low, winter light losing colour
looking tired and stretched
The sun’s early rising all but forgotten
another life, another time
The soltice shroud of darkness covers all
and the frost fingers;
hard and cold
grip the earth
And its frigid breath
bites the air
As the year ends in a flurry of colour
My Words, My World 
very renaissance! greetings
Thank you, and greetings to you also. It always makes a difference when you see a comment.
Gorgeous poem & photo! The changing of seasons is always a melancholy affair, no? You illustrate it so beautifully. x
Thank you Topaz. I find winter melancholy; everything is stripped to its bare self and left to survive the elements. That’s what makes spring so wonderful however. x