Some omen

On a dead alder tree in winter snow, 
Cormorants perched in solemn pose, 
Their silhouettes black against the glow.

The landscape stark, yet a beauty to know, 
The winter's chill in the air that froze, 
On a dead alder tree in winter snow.

The birds, some omen on that frosted meadow, 
Gazing over the frozen water below, 
Their silhouettes black against the glow.

The skies were a palette of grey and indigo, 
The stillness only broken by the cormorants' prose, 
On a dead alder tree in winter snow.

The emptiness of the scene aglow, 
A bleakness and loneliness that imposed, 
Their silhouettes black against the glow.

But amidst the chill and the desolation's throw, 
The cormorants on the tree, a beauty disclosed, 
On a dead alder tree in winter snow, 
Their silhouettes black against the glow.

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