I Love Winter

Under this

aluminium sky

the day feels blank

as a factory wall.

The chickens fluff

fatly

keeping busy

in the sunless dirt.

The washing hangs

limp and two dimensional

in front of

the enthusiastic

budding of the Magnolia.

 

It is winter

with its grumpier face on.

Pretty tame,

you have to say,

compared to

tennis-ball sized hail stones

and incinerated

National Parks.

 

 

3 thoughts on “I Love Winter

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