Frost
The early sun shines brightly The sky, a palest blue A sharpness in the morning air Says winter is not through I gaze upon the rooftops Each glazed a glittering white I feel my breath catch with the cold Jack Frost was here last night I marvel at his artwork Each frozen, faultless hue The daffodils are painted Cobwebs gleam with diamond dew My breath creates smoke signals A warning to pay heed This wonderland of wintered white Will quickly fade, and bleed
This poem, Trudi, captures perfectly what it feels like to be alive and aware in a temporary wonderland created by frost. Magical.
You beautifully capture that liminal space, that crack being fought over, between winter and spring, Trudi!