His grip can't last forever

Fracture lines cut a smokey sky, 
Stripped bare across the countryside, 
Shadow of what it used to be, 
Silhouetted so beautifully, 
No more a haven to make a home, 
Fragile looking veins are exposed, 
Sun bleeds through while blindingly low, 
Little birds come and go,  
California trees do not fear old man winter, 
His  grip can't last forever, 
Soon things will be back as they were, 
Till the changes again occur.