She stares out the window at the morning frost. Garden tools still lay where they were tossed.
What happened to the morning sun?
What happened to those days of fun?
Pulling weeds and spending hours sifting soil and planting flowers/ all to make the place look nice before it becomes entombed in ice.
The greens have curled into a gooey slime reminding her of the fleeting time.
Depression doesn’t need a reason to rear its head in this final season.
One more winter is too high a cost to pay for the pain of life’s loves lost.