Before the snows

There's a certain slant of light,

winter afternoons,

that oppresses 

like the heft of cathedral tunes

 - Emily Dickinson 

Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors

which it passes to a row of ancient trees

You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you,

one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Winter is blowing into her hands

from cold unblinking eyes 

she handcombs wisps of silver hair

and all around her we brace ourselves 

in the tremble of season change

we bury ourselves in defensive dress

for the tactless wave of her hand

the coolness with which,

like a fickle lover,

she dismisses fall

                      - Salvatore Buttaci

Summer died upon another eon

Autumn scampered from the chill

but the trees fought back, upheld their dignity

no fuss, pomp or thrill

-Mark R. Slaughter

When I took these photographs, winter had arrived with its icy air that stung our bare fingers and flushed our faces red and raw. But the snows hadn't come quite yet, they were still lingering somewhere in Russia.