Post-Solstice Annual

Snow makes mockery of the night and
takes away all the dimming grayness
that stole the late hour from the stars.

Creatures spread thin dart across the sleet
and frost-encrusted ground in pursuit
of elemental sanctuary.

Jack came late, stumbling from the trip,
and ranting about the southerners
who steal away the birds come the cold.

All the while we scrape at the frost
in the quiet, yet desperate hope
that we'll wake to the warm tomorrow.

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Morningglory's picture

I really liked this imagery

I really liked this imagery and where my mind took me. :)

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