Winter's here and autumn's damp has gone;

Frost now monochromes the ground, and trees

Stand bare to let in morning light; the breeze

Cuts at my chaffing face before the sun.

Furrowed fields are frozen and the pond's

Iced over, leaving ducks confused to peck

And glide, as in some avine discotheque,

Before crash-landing into dying fronds.

Soft water-colour clouds edge out the sky

And rooks seem ill at ease among the sheep

Fretting that their nests will never keep

Until the warmth returns in spring, while I

            Am glad that winter has at last arrived,

            Made up its mind, and brought my soul alive.

Brian Hick December 2008

©copyright S Hick December 2021