Poetry
Winter’s Frigid Face
Her Bone-Chilling Stare
Winter’s frigid face appears
with a bone-chilling stare
once flowing streams
freeze beneath her gaze
and branches break
under the weight of
her snowy breath
harsh and relentless
her moody winds howl
piercing through
layers of wool
not to be kept outside
Winter’s frosty fingers
penetrate the smallest cracks
taking up residence
claiming every corner
placing another log
on the fire seems futile
but still, I must
then listening to the
hiss and crackle of the
birch bough catching alight
I shiver in surrender
and wrap my hands
around a mug of hot cocoa
sitting with tabby-cat
once again cozy on my lap
I pull Grandma’s afghan up
snuggly to my chin
resigned to the fact
that Winter is here