Leaf Cadavers

The driving miniscule flakes of snow.
Confim the world is a shaken globe.
Dark brown leaf cadavers can still be seen.
Crumbled in death poking through the newborn powder.
The haunted silence is even louder.
Life touching death, unusually serene.
Ghosts of autumn yearn for snowy winter
For a short while, the white world is void of the sinister.
The wind inhales a frozen breath.
A frigid cold whisper upon my neck.
Exhalations of steam, blow at the iced vanilla trees.
Bird population take haven in the branches.
To behold the million flurry circumstances.
The leaf cadavers are now deeply buried
In the innocence of those million flurries.