This is my fist book of poetry with a short imaginative piece to set the mood. All images are also taken by myself unless specified. There could be some triggers in my writing so please beware when reading. -Sarah Appleton
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I look out my frosted window at a world of dazzling color, of leaves that shine like polished glass. Ice cold wind blows these frozen crystals ever closer to my window. They seem to sing and dance like fairies teasing me to reach out and touch them, then soon to be carried away by an invisible hand. I remember the feeling of the leaves the way they felt like silk, but were as fragile as a spider's web. Through the majestic colors, if you look closely,you can see the outline of trees that look like they should be in a graveyard, ominously, they lurk as if to destroy the radiant and beautiful life. I can hear the creak of the branches that are being battered by the same wind that gave the leaves their life. You would think these two would not go together, the serene world of crystal leaves and the forbidding world of dying trees; and yet it seems right this strange and stunning picture postcard world. The wind ceases, the dance has stopped, and the once alluring swirl of color fades into a translucent thought, as the season has passed and only one precious colorful crystal remains.
