Winter

Mid-January. A foot of unblemished snow.
Sparkling in a weakened midday sun,
Peering through bare laden branches.
The sound of silence overwhelming
As his colloidal breath shrouds like a wreath.
Life hidden, suspended but as strong as ever
For as sure as the world turns,
With no rush, no forcing, just nature’s wish,
Spring’s stirrings give way to Summer heat
And condemn the bleak whiteness to a distant memory.