Waiting

Mid December and all the trees are bare

But fields are lush with damp unfrosted grass.

The wind may have ripped off the last few leaves

But on the ground the warmth and wet amass

Abundant winter fodder for the sheep

Who stand in sleepy huddles, unaware

Of sodden churchyards, or the children's swings

Abandoned to the crows as they prepare

For winter and the coming of the dark.

Above, the starlings circle and display

Before they disappear behind the copse

Draining off the last dregs of the day;

            Yes I am happy, knowing what is to come

            Our Solstice Fire and the returning Sun,

Brian Hick December 2009

©copyright S Hick December 2021