Passing Clouds.
Birds prefer a heavy dew to
ice cold rigors of a sudden
snap it helps them brave
an arctic breath which saps
As if to celebrate this Celsius
shift a starling sits upon
a stark-branched tree
to serenade a dankish world
Late December mists and
tree-lined silhouettes every
passing mood of nature is a
poem waiting to be found
winston plowes
Tue 28th Dec 2010 21:19
I also liked the imagery here. And as you suggest, hard not to write about this sort of thing at this time of year. Nice piece. Win