Winter's Chill

This time of year, it's a real struggle to find dynamic photos in the colorless environment. Everything is so drab; there are no sounds of birds or bees. The landscape is like a blank canvas; there are no colors to paint it with. The lifeless winter months always force me inward...streaming thoughts overflow, as soft and silent as falling snow. I grow tired of the cold during these long January and February days, but there's something to be said for the winter woods: it's a perfect place to listen, to watch, to contemplate. And to dream of spring and summer! My spirit aches for it...if I close my eyes, I can almost smell the budding flowers and the freshly turned soil.

I search inside
For some memories
Dipping my cupped hands
Into glimpses of sunny days
And my soul flies
With dreamy eyes
Along the soft trails
Of white-cupped daisies
Smoldering in the heat
Of August's rays

If only for a moment
Winter's chill
Falls from my heart
Like bitter glass
Pointy snowflakes
Blue from the moon
Melting tenderly
Spilling away and
Shimmering against
Sunlight on my face.

© Sherri Brannon