Alessandra Diridoni Grigsby
Bright ruby berries decorate
the Ilex with its serrated
leaves and upright stems standing tall
in profusion about the gate.
Frost glistens in the meadow green,
crunching underfoot with each step
as the snowy owl sits aloft,
hooting, waiting, but never seen.
Step soft, you may hear there among,
the faintest brush of fur on fur
as the white wolf moves fleet and hushed,
taking winter food to its young.
The fragrant pale yellow trumpets
of the primrose jasmine belie
Winter and give early promise
to Spring soon come with no regrets.
Come walk with me and I will hold
your hand so it is warm. I will
tell you the colors so you might
see the fire in the sunrise gold.
We need not speak then so you might
hear the wind move soundlessly through
Aspen, Rowan and Cypress tall,
as day grows softly after night.
Footprints fade into grasses wet
with dew and snow lately melted,
and give only a hint as to
their owners gone and not seen yet.
Winter walk, a promise to keep.
Just ahead in the glade, hidden
by forest and mists to shelter
Winter secrets in time laid deep.