The Winter

That fork in the road
Has been coming to me,
Rather than I to it.
The autumn is everpresent
As what was red and gold
Turns to the brown of decay.
I never expected the summer
To last forever in perfect warmth.
I am only frightened
By the knowledge that autumn
Is followed always by cold winter.
I do not fear the chill nor snow,
But I do fear the empty branches
That must come to pass
When each leaf has abandoned me.