A pile of sticks stacked beside the bare-branched birch,
as if a warning to the tree of what its fate may be.

But no ordinary pile of firewood these,
they are the very walls that fenced in the summer garden,
removed and neatly piled to dream through the winter
of someday being upright under the sun again.

Meanwhile, out in the yard, the supporting posts
send mysterious semaphore messages,
stalwartly trying to guide the sun back to the frozen land

The Winter Gate stands still
against the storms to come
as if a portal to another mysterious realm of ritual

The over-arching reach of winter haunts us again

decorating the woods like a Christmas card.
Life imitating art imitating life.

May your holiday season sparkle and glow

whether or not it be dusted with snow.