Winter’s Breath

The frost has fallen, clinging
to the ground by my feet.
Through the thin of shoes and socks
I feel such a bitter touch.

Stretching nights have given way
to the brief morning’s cold,
and endless clouds mask the sky
as they carry on the short day.

Winter’s breath hangs in the air –
reluctant, heavy, tired, sharp.
Pale voices take their slow pace and
spread as far as can be seen.

winters-breath

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