Oranges, yellows, greens and reds fill the clouded sky
there is a chill about the air, as puffy figures float on by.
With a sense of urgency the animals collect thier things,
now they must prepare themselves , for the sleep that winter brings.
Mother nature covers up, that which in summer she did bare
thier furs she does thicken up form the fox down to the hare.
The air gets colder still once the sun goes down
an urgency boils up and spreads all around.
Her sons and duaghters watch as each day grows shorter yet
anxiety fills the air with thoughts of things they did not get.
Finally the movement stops and not a sound is heard
not a growl, bark, or a chirp and seen not is a bird.
Gone now are the animals , nary a one is seen at niether day nor night
passed are all the bright colors, now blanked in white.
The stiff chill felt in the air turns to winters bite.
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