Saturday, 9 January 2021

A Poem a Day (346): Morning frosted

 
 
 Morning frosted
 
Morning finds us all the same
as we were the previous day,
 
wrapped in our own chill skin
watching geese take to the sky.
 
Blankets reminisce of warm slumber,
coffee floods the room with earth
 
and frost whispers on the windowpane.
The lake lies still, an open mirror,
 
gazed into by the birds flying over.
Unlike Narcissus, they do not pause.
 
This serene scene, glistening white.
I resist the urge to press ‘Play’.
 
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, January 9, 2020
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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