Gray sky--freezing cold;
People walking back and forth
Making their trips short.
Red squirrel mounts feeder;
Screaming human scares him off;
Such, the way of things.
Wheelbarrow hay load
Parked out in front of the barn.
The cows are waiting.
The field is frosted;
Layer of cold lies on it.
No sounds but the woods.
In the running stream
A tiny piece of ice sits--
Frozen in motion.
House lights in morning--
Dim lamps send forth their soft light;
Not sun--not shadows.
Bright sun shines on road
Bringing clear light but no heat--
A frosted brilliance.
Creature in the tree
Looks at me somewhat askew;
What is his puzzle?
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