Winter, Grief, and Glee

The sky was a sickly shade of sepia.

It reminded one of flames strewn all over.

As if the sun had given itself away

To the blue canvas.

The trees were leafless and the winds grew teeth,

Sinking them deep into one's skin

Until the coldness held one captive.

Her name was Winter-

The kind of name that dominates a family tree with no surname.

She summoned grief to her embrace.

Grief drove a skyblue Plymouth,

An invited traveller.

He snaked his way through the ridged roads

Of the villages scattered like stars on earth.

 He climbed onto the living's eyes,

Made love to their souls,

Wrapped their happiness carefully in cotton clothes,

Loaded them on the back of his Plymouth,

And disappeared into the distance exploded with naked cedars and sepia fog,

Sending dirt into the ocean eyes of a girl named Glee behind.