Death in the Valley
The petals fall slowly to the frozen earth.
A brisk chill ruffles their path
As they float gently through the air.
The colors soft as silk,
Dully glowing in the pale autumn light.
One by one, they descend,
Leaving but a stem to stand alone.
The ground is littered with petals
The deep red so vibrant
Amid the sea of white.
As though the dry leaves were bloodshed
From a frosted battle long ago.
There is no more life in the valley
But for the last few flowers
Holding on, desperate to never let go.