A Picture of Winter

I gaze out across the rolling fields
Once green and lush with summer glory
Now, January hides them within a blanket of silence
No bird song can be heard
No gentle breeze felt
Now wind rips and tears at a lonely traveller
Who tries to make their way across the bridge
Heading for home.
They are bound and wrapped in layers
Hats and mittens covering every inch of skin.
In the distance...
A ribbon of smoke curls from a homestead
A calling card of warmth
In a world devoid of colour.
Cutting across the pond is futile
The surface looks hard and smooth
But its fragile venire can splinter
At the slightest provocation.
Sending their victim
into a watery Piercing assault
That steals their breath
And leaves nothing
but darkness and misery
as hope slips away.


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