17 January 2013
It's cold and still
Outside the back door
Even time seems frozen
By the wintry hoar
Trees weighing heavy
From the frosting they wear
They appear in bloom
Even though they are bare
Along the towpath
From freezing fog
Wrapped couple emerge
Walking waggly tailed dog
A fleet footed fox
Is running away
In naked brown fields
Lay her catch for the day
One movement constant
Is the tideless stream
White camouflaged waders
Seeking out bream
Bordering the water
Along the route it takes
Mud flats marzipanned
Like icing on cakes
Everything captured
With a sweeping glance
I'd stay awhile
If given the chance
Safe in the knowledge
My view remains free
It'll last all day
And that'll do me
From The Back Door • Opuss № I