It is a willow when summer is over,
a willow by the river
from which no leaf has fallen nor
bitten by the sun
turned orange or crimson.
The leaves cling and grow paler,
swing and grow paler
over the swirling waters of the river
as if loath to let go,
they are so cool, so
Many associate winter with the snow, cold weather, and longer days, but the season also brings with it popular holidays and the transition from the old year into the new. Browse our selection of poems about the winter season.