Snow falls in swirls
On transverse ridge
December gray
First winter storm pauses
As I watch and wait
It is my fifty-sixth winter
Trees denuded, skeletal
Seem numbed in the cold
Shaking with wind
Apple tree, Golden Delicious
Holding fruit out of season
Globes like summer suns
Hanging by thin stems
Ornaments from spectral limbs
Gifts of color in the gray
Birds landing, eating
Left-over summer
Quick brown beaks darting
A feast against the snow
For flying things and me