Death in the Valley

The petals fall slowly to the frozen earth.

A brisk chill ruffles their path

As they float gently through the air.

The colors soft as silk,

Dully glowing in the pale autumn light.

One by one, they descend,

Leaving but a stem to stand alone.

The ground is littered with petals

The deep red so vibrant

Amid the sea of white.

As though the dry leaves were bloodshed

From a frosted battle long ago.

There is no more life in the valley

But for the last few flowers

Holding on, desperate to never let go.