Winter Woods

Winter woods are gray and silent,

Soft, and deep, and frosty,

In pine and spruce scented air,

Ice crystals cling like jeweled lichen,

Birch trees shining silver against the other pewter trees,

Branches all askew,

Reaching for the sky,

With green draped hemlocks

Dancing in the glen,

The whistling winds sings

Winter’s here again.

The tiny trumpet call of nuthatches

Breaks the woodland’s sleep,

And it’s then that I remember,

“I have promises to keep.”

So softly I pad back

Down this winter woodland trail,

To the waiting warmth of my winter cottage,

To my winter woodland home.

Kathie Adams Brown (12-30-14)