Winter is Coming (A villanelle, not a GoT book)

The year is marching, slowing, growing grey
All that once was warm is turning cold;
It comes, the night, to swallow up the day.

The frigid morning slaps the face like spray 
All movements, heat-preserving, are controlled;
The year is marching, slowing, growing grey.

Rainbow colours lend a small cachet
Holding brightness like some secret gold;  
It comes, the night, to swallow up the day.

All around we see the world decay
Nothing thrives but peas and leafy mould;
The year is marching, slowing, growing grey.

A time to stop, withdraw, and softly weigh
All the stories summer left untold;
It comes, the night, to swallow up the day.

A season to recall what will betray
All living things, as babies become old:
The year is marching, slowing, growing grey;
It comes, the night, to swallow up the day.

- Kathy, 3/6/15