The Cold Continues

 

No green on the ground--
Patchwork play of brown and white,
In the morning sun.

 

Shadows in the woods;
Black and white across the street.
The cold continues.
 

 

A mouth full of hay.
That's all Olivia needs
For her morning bliss.
 

 

How blue the clear sky
Dappled with some feathered clouds;
How icy the wind.
 

 

Hanging piece of rope
Hung purposefully between wires.
(What purpose is that?)

 

Thick walls of firewood
Across from the snow bound woods--
A fortress of heat.

 

 Wayward ornaments,
Silver, shining in the snow
Far from Christmas tree.

Tall rotting tree stump
Is now a fearful totem--
Companion of Death.