WINTER

Branches wear a crown pure white;
ground now glistens in dawn’s fresh light.

Houses, bearing bunches of snow
though worn with age, stand proud to show.

Paths and roads are blunted now:
ready for boot prints, and the plow.

Icy cold stings finger and toe.
When children awake they will play in the snow.

The city’s grime is covered and pure,
awaiting brown mush, it continues to endure.

All hail the Seasons! Spring will spring!
bringing time for flowers, and time to sing.