Winter

The epic of winter.

Softly winter whispers its name
on November days as sweet as
honey drifting on a river
Winter has icy claws waiting
to rip the sky asunder soon
Its freezing fingers will creep up
to sneak down collars of our coats
Sidewalks lay in wait for little
Postal people bend in sorry
humps and huddles wishing for home
What for a moment was beautiful
Now is unbearable agony

Then another whisper will come
blowing promises of spring