Poets' Practice Pad

"Cold Dawn."

Snowcapped mountains sparkle
As the sun peeks over the horison
New day is laid out so crisp
Frosted window panes, like etched glass
Icles hanging from the eaves
Glisten brighter than diamonds
Not a sound can be heard
Silenced it seems, in the blanket of white

A single trail of sunken footsteps
In the white blanket apon the ground
Orchard trees bare to the bone
Frost clinging to leafless branches
Chickadee's thankful for the footsteps
Who left seeds, for them to survive

Such a simple pleasure to sip a cup of java
Gazing out at the cold dawn.

Decora
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