Cinerous Drops of November Rain.

For there I laid helpless, strained of motion in the leaves.
Tainted flakes of snow housing themselves on my tongue...
Stripped from my exhale, my last warmth found bereaved,
With every blood-pumping artery stricken down to a numb.
Looming over me, crooked those rotting limbs of decay...
Which could have stood past the excuse of shadowy fingers.
Incisive stalactites suspended their death with frigid allay,
All seeming to freeze time, and dirge for November.
Snippets of moonlight, peeked slender noses from the veil.
Darkness soon proved heavy upon I, and the boreal.
Teeth ridiculed with frost, failing to coax out a shrill wail...
Nothing dared utter such a whimper, nigh the hoot of the owl.

A cracking began cracking, from broken origin unknown,
What dreadful noise rue the night, emanating from my bones!

(A sonnet to E.A.P.)