Winter, as it Should Be
Somewhat as it Should Be
Frozen fog has shut off any sights without the vale:
Only a few fields below the road and trees along:
Ash still green but paling, poplars rising glorious
In gold and rowan orange glowing. Goldfinches flee
But return easily to glean seeds to fuel against the cold
Ice clad grass banks and crown clods in shaded corners.
Chilled fingers fumble at the pen with these words, so I
Turn to the house, for use in clutching logs, and later,
Thawed to type by the fire, stopping by the spring
To fill the water bottle for a dram. The flow has not
Yet been helped by the recent rain and snow, I see,
But we’ve returned, somewhat, to winter as it should be.
I wrote this a few weeks back, when the weather was a little different. It’s clear that this Christmas is not white in much of Europe, but it’s whiteout in much of North America…. neither exactly what anyone wants…
Well, anyway, happy Christmas. Hope you’re warm wherever you are.
Posted on December 25, 2022, in Ecology, nature, poetry, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged autumn, christmas, climate breakdown, climate change, climate chaos, drought, fall, fog, goldfinces, ice, nature, poem, poetry, rowan, snow, Spain, spring, trees, water, water table, Weather, wildlife, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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