The crows fly low on a day such as this,
As the cold eats the air then blows it out as a mist.
Branches are naked their leaves almost gone,
Leaving birds all huddled in a whimpering throng.
The stream tumbles over its icy bed.
As autumn lays finished now burying its dead.
Winter strikes hard as its gavel strikes,
And its wind blows through you at your bones it bites.
Short cold days with longer colder nights,
Inside we sit with the fires alight.
Roasting chestnuts with a glass of wine.
For all its faults winter can be a splendid time.
First spring, then summer now autumn fades,
As the chill of winter invades our days.
Snow-covered pastures, a scene to behold
New life to breathe beyond what’s old.
© 2019, Daniel Kemp All rights reserved.