When Persephone Weeps

Child of the evening
clothed in ebony raiment
Pale stealer of hearts
blowing chill kisses
on a slumbering meadow
frozen and colorless

The breath of winter
carries lifeless chafe
to forgotten corners
across a pristine carpet
glistening in icy white

No litany of scents
to sing of warmth
No whispering breeze
to play among
leaves and grasses

Just the lonely murmur
of naked branches
ignored in their pleading
by a callous
insensitive season

Thus does the world suffer
when Persephone weeps.