Winter is here, and the wolves are ready

More about Winter is here, and the wolves are ready

Initial structure of the free verse poem by Gemini-Exp-1206 AI:

The wind, that sneaky bastard,
it used to whisper through the pines,
soft, like a lover's promise in July.

Now it howls, a goddamn wolf,
ripping the last leaves from the birches
like an old man tearing up lottery tickets.

The lake, she's holding her breath,
that dark mirror gone still,
waiting for the first icy hand to grip her.

The sun, that lazy prick,
barely bothers to climb over the treeline anymore.

Just a weak, yellow yawn across the fields,
and then it's back to bed.

The air, it smells different now.

Not of damp earth and mushrooms,
but of something sharp, something clean.

Like a freshly sharpened axe.

The ground, hard as a miser's heart,
no more give, no more softness.

Even the crows sound different,
their cawing more urgent,
like they know something we don't.

Or maybe they just know what's coming.

The long dark.

The silence.

The cold that seeps into your bones
and makes you question if spring will ever come back.

But then...

But then you see the first snowflakes.

Fat, lazy, like they've got all the time in the world.

And you know it's here.

Winter.

And it's not just an ending, is it?

It's a beginning, too.

A time for stories by the fire.

A time for the Northern Lights to dance.

A time for the world to sleep,
and dream of what's to come.

And maybe, just maybe,
we'll dream a little, too.
___
My request to Gemini was: "Describe the arrival of winter through a free verse poem"

Gemini is testable here at the time this image was made (list of testable models may change):
https://aistudio.google.com/app/prompts/new_chat