Winter

Going beyond warmed rooms,
through doors of sturdy oak,
to a world cloaked in white.

Natures snowy blanket surrounding all,
icicles glisten in the morning light,
suspended from ice glazed eaves.

Stepping down snow covered steps,
imprints left behind where you once stood,
as you walk, snow and ice crunching,
surrendering under the weight of your boots.

Hands reaching, pulling collars closer,
trying to capture the warmth,
your breath leaves a cloud of warmth,
only to be captured by winters’ cold grasp.

Retrieving what you set out for,
you turn, only to retrace footsteps,
imprinted in white winter snow,
a path that leads you back up the steps,
to the warm heathen behind doors of sturdy oak.

This poem was written/submitted by L. Roberts © March 1, 1994.