I no longer grieve
for the lushness of green
or the brilliance
of orange
yellow
and red
 
I've found      
a new perspective
 
exposed
      between naked trees
                  
I take in the sight
      of powder-puffed
              grey and beige hills
        rolling
            towards stubbled
                        golden-brown fields
 
and see lacy patterns
            in the delicate bones
   of overlapped branches
                                 against
                                       azure blue
           in the unadorned view
  between seasons

This poem first appeared in The Avocet.
Used here with the author's permission.