Sunburnt sky dabbed with white paint,

Aching tree roots, leaves gnawed and torn,

Flowers bloomed then, wilted and withered,

Streets have grown silent, footsteps retreated.

Grounds covered in fragile frost,

Life played through the window glass,

Cold hands in seek of lasting warmth,

A feeling the the heart that will always last.

The sun has gone for now, vanished,

The rain has poured for some time,

But this season will soon change,

And when it does, the bell will chime.