Winter’s Orchestra

Winter’s song is long and low and slow,
Its instruments trees’ branches full of snow,
Percussive frozen rain the North Wind blows
To underline harsh, raucous cries of crows.
Cacaphonies of color in the Fall,
Spring’s muted piping green leaves over all,
Deep Summer’s languid music–each enthralls.
Yet none of these can match a frozen squall.
The cold that grips these walls becomes pervasive,
Their creaking singing harmonies abrasive,
The winds thus gather instruments evasive
For singing Winter melodies, persuasive.
And even we, with chattering teeth and bones,
Become more instruments that Winter hones.

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Sonnet, Winter. Bookmark the permalink.

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