The cold wind warbles;
Around the bend it grows cold.
Distant rooster crows.

The stream is now ice;
In one place water bubbles
Racing against freeze.

The frozen green leaves
Hang motionless from the bush,
Folded to themselves.

Two dogs come running;
They race towards me and then veer.
It's a doggy game.

Bottom of the hill
My poochy friend stands waiting;
Then wags himself off.

No fair with four legs;
He stops ahead and faces me:
"What's taking so long?"

The sun is bright now;
Dark shadows fall on the road.
Still, the air is ice.

Old nest in the bush
Sits tilted towards the sun;
Hatchlings are long gone.