The night is pitch black
A natural silence
Absolutely still
Settling into a creaky deck chair
I feel the wood stove heat
Wafting through the open cabin widow
Sipping whiskey
I hear the crack of shifting ice
Dancing through the dark
A sign
In the wounded light
Glowing from the old lantern
Gnats dart here and there
A sign
The snow under foot
Has a softness
Saturated
A sign
The change of seasons
Slowly creeping
Onward
I love those soft subtle signs of spring that show themselves....beautiful!
ReplyDeleteIt does seem to be a little slow this year : ) Nice write.
ReplyDeleteZQ
Ah, you can't stop the movement of the seasons. When snow is saturated, can spring be far behind?
ReplyDeletehopefully not Mary
DeleteYes, there are many signs of the changing seasons.
ReplyDeleteYou sound nice and cozy by the fire......best place to be till it warms up........
ReplyDeletedefinitely Sherry
DeleteI can feel it too... even more in the way the sun hits my retina.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem!
ReplyDeleteI can feel spring drawing near with each bit of warmth.
ReplyDeleteThere are signs everywhere 💜 Lovely write!
ReplyDeleteWonderful imagery in this beautifully rendered piece. You have sketched the scene so well ~ sigh ~ and your repetition of the phrase 'a sign', is inspired.
ReplyDeleteYou had me sitting right there with you, only I had beer.
ReplyDelete