Sharp morning shadows
Play with sunlight in the field;
Crisp, icy wind blows.

The stream is ice now,
No trickle just still whiteness;
Cold wind kisses it.

Ice wind in the woods
Murmurs in the bare tree limbs;
Old branch creaks softly.

There's sun but no warmth;
A breeze, but it's icy harsh;
Still, the old dogs bask.

Light lies on the leaves;
Wind whispers in the chilled woods;
A winter stillness.

Now my mind wanders
Conjuring imagined hurts.
Wind blows them away.