You grow so cleverly

In the damp winter air

Elegantly dressing logs, branches and twigs

In sleeves of deep verdant green

Fashioned of velvet, so soft and comely

 

Only to be casually abandoned

Scattered across the woodland floor

Left alone, to glow then fade

 As might discarded accessories,

of the most sartorial

Who would wear only garments

Created and fitted by the exclusive couturiers

Of Paris, London or Milan