Winter's Creep

Autumn warmth
and rusted leaves hide
the shrouded chill high in the Northlands,
mustering its icy warriors
to creep down in the night;
keening winds gather dark clouds
about it,

and with furtive breath suck
the warmth from all about;
icy blasts ravage the tired trees
as gentle flakes
tumble down from the heavy skies,
beautiful like dancing nymphs,
misleading my sight,
numbing the air,
reaching out to every
nook and cranny,
they gather higher and higher,
blown into dark corners,
climbing to my window ledge.

Frosty tendrils slink from the roof
twining down my window pane
obscuring the outside from my sight …

… then, as morning’s pale light
oozes in through tight closed shutters,
I open my door onto a strange
soft and barren world:

all that was ordinary and familiar to me,
through verdant Spring
and hot high Summer,
to Autumn’s parade of golden hues,
is lost to the white shroud of
Winter’s Creep.

© David Simons 2010

Winter's Creep

thewiccaman

Joined April 2010

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

A poem for the cold winter nights ..

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