A single breeze sails softly
Lonely winter sun shines down through tree
Upon the snow which has freshly laid
The last leaf of season becomes unmade

The icicle’s cling to branch after branch
The deer watch on in a cautious stance
As the woodcutter gathers all that he can
The sun begins to fall

The lonely song of the robin fades
As the frost begins to set
The endless sound of gentle babble from the stream
Takes throne among the twilight

The cold of night by his side
She rules the land with no remorse
Although seasons come and go
The rest must wait their turn...