Branches hang crystal chandeliers,
victims of the season that’s stripped them bare.
Frost lit aflame in the rising sun’s glare
their bark, now diamond scales blazing
against frigid air. An armor they’ll wear
until the spring melts their sweet love affair.
But now, they gleam together in
early brazen light, as if unaware
of their inevitable despair.
They relish in this moment of
dawn before death, glowing with heavenly flare.