The leaves have surrendered to a chill-wintry wind,
sending shudders up the backs of bare trees.
Their crisp silhouettes rattle against a grey-fog sky,
and I hold my breath for a moment
half expecting the boughs to shatter.
My feet are snug between three layers of socks,
stuffed and packed into my cotton-lined boots.
With confidence I try the ice puddle that
hugs the tree’s upturned roots.
One step,
One step's all it takes to break the shell
and expose the slushy ice bath beneath.
Into hands cupped over my mouth, I sigh...
No ice skating today.












Comments
the idea of spine-chilling winds making the trees shudder is just awesome!
It is a little hard to reconcile such a great picture of a icy day with the slush puddle beneath.. I wonder how it escapes freezification... but I like a good mystery too. I'll think on it.
p.s. 1st post, woot!
--
2 pockets full
--
The fiery windowsills of a setting sun.
--
AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road.
--
AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road.
--
The fiery windowsills of a setting sun.
--
You don't know me.
So don't act like you do.
Don't ask me either,
'Cause I too don't have a clue.
... Evelyn ...
--
AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road.
--
AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road.
--
You don't know me.
So don't act like you do.
Don't ask me either,
'Cause I too don't have a clue.
... Evelyn ...
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