Through the Glass

Through the glass I see
     Evergreens, their numbers counting on past infinity
     Charcoal-colored stormy clouds hover above, them, some coming down to dance lightly through            the needle carpeted forest floor in a damp mist
To the left on the inside of the window I see
     Framed photos, the glass keeping them resistant to harm
     Making sure the pearly whites and laughter lines preserved for centuries
Something is different, though
     Perhaps it is because I am alone in this house, but being alone can be good for you
     Perhaps the spirits that walk these halls are at rest, or have moved onto another home to haunt
     Whatever it is, it's a good change
The color in the trees remains the same throughout the seasons, always that comforting dark green
     Giving them their name; evergreen
The remnants of the last snow storm have begun to melt of of the branches, and turn to mush on the forest floor
     Preparing for the next blizzard
In the distance, too far for the human eye to see
     I hear the lonely, painful cry
     A cry of the lost
     The wolf's howl is almost torture to listen to
     The long, drawn out note heartbreaking
The clouds hear it too, and descend lower to blanket the tormented soul