on the nearness of winter

light plays on a log from the creek underneath and startled,
I look for bears, none to be seen
the cold in my head makes it hard to think
but my eyes still see the confusion I can’t speak.
gnarled roots greet me, cold water calms me
the ground, so beaten, should not be my friend
but I ask it
my words make no sense but neither does the season
the leaves turn colours, die without reason
winter approaches, they see need to weep,
with winter comes dark and I fear it.
not just outside, the dark in my mind that I can’t touch
the dark inside that I haven’t met
it scares me.
I guess I do understand the leaves and their reason to fall
but some are still green, not even beautiful
but who am I to say when it can or can’t die
I can’t even tell myself when to be happy
when I should
skeleton trees, they mock me
they know who I am and I don’t
I think they might try to tell me if they weren’t so bitter and dead.
spring is not the answer though,
this happens every year