Winter In a Room

thin curtains adorned with leaves hang from tall windows, slightly folding against the chill.    
trees now bare remain still, there is no more rustling of leaves in the wind, just a crackling of boughs adjusting to the falling temperatures  
sun splinters through bare branches casting yellow light that remains cold to the touch, outer limbs stretch steeley fingers grappling for warmth    
heat in the room rises, billowing the golden curtains to rustling the leaves against framed glass where trees can only look on and see what they once had is now locked inside  
 

"Made the great tree seem as a little bird
Before the mystery of glass!"


 
#RobertFrost