Cold stream of air,
clear, raw sky, rare
wisps and little shrouds
or shawls of clouds
fast fleeting,
low sun lancing,
screened less
by intervening
trees' unleaved undress.
I stand in fleece
and boots, out back
a breath, a break
of afternoon, the stir,
to mark the slide away
of bright and shivering day.
.....
YOU ARE READING
Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
