Season's Cold

Old Man Winter Revisits

 The warmth has left the season. 

Wool socks unlock summer's dream,

Morning's bite awaits in season's cold,

Old Long John hugs your body fine,

Here we are all awaiting,

awaiting innocence's fall

finding the grace of 

season's cold.

Reviews

[Alfred Kukitz]

I packed away my shorts today. Felt a small bite this morning walking the dogs. The lake sits near by. I often see grace in a snowfall which is akin to innocence. Remember Jacob, when the snow falls we are getting a different landscape, a different Earth.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are pretty kind to Mr. Harsh Winter here...

"we await the grace"!

but yes, morning's bite is happening, even here in Southern Illinois...

no more shorts for me...

even though it is about a river, not snow...i was humming "old man winter" in my mind...

with the tune of "old man river"---

like the pic and the poem...