Harbinger of Winter, poetry by Ken Allan Dronsfield at Spillwords.com

Harbinger of Winter

Harbinger of Winter

written by: Ken Allan Dronsfield



While I sat beside a snow shovel and pondered
never forgotten strife that came that December.
Our winter wears were still safely stored in an
old cedar chest at the foot of our large bed.
Wood smoke rose from our cabin by the lake
inviting to those chilled to the bone that day.
My arms and hands were worn and beaten,
moving those heavy barrels of apple cider.
Blustery cold winds made my eyes teary as the
old horse slowed only to cross the icy brook.
My walking stick plunged deep in blowing snow;
the fireplace felt nice, helping melt away the cold.
The feeling finally returned to fingers and toes as
an early blizzard shook us all upon a day that fall.
Whispering a prayer I pondered about this frosty
cold and the upcoming winter’s solstice.
Snow kept falling and covered over our windows.
During those frigid days of December’s cruel wake,
Old Man Winter sat upon his throne, laughing!

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