One by one, every leaf fell until there were none left to see.
Every branch barren, and destitute of life, upon each and every tree.
The scene was silent with a cold chill in the air.
Wind swept through the branches, with every tree bare.
But an omen came calling, they flocked-in in droves.
Thousands soon landed amid the ancient maple groves.
Ravens all calling to each other around.
Their cries, a moving and hauntingly beautiful sound.
They lingered for a day, and suddendly took to their flight.
Loudly swarming through the air until well out of sight.
Where they go is a secret that only ravens know.
Leaving behind only a solitary feather, little evidence to show.
Until next year, the silence only continues to grow.
When will they return? Only the ravens seem to know.