Winter

On this cold, windy Namibian morning, I’m going to do something I have not done in ages… Try my hand at a bit of poetry… Please forgive the rusty mind and cold hand!

BW Wood Pile

 

Swirling bowls of dust

Cutting corners

Seeping through the smallest crevice

Closing windows

Closing doors

To no avail

The cold is everywhere.

Layers we wear

Thicker than ice bears we walk

Empty mugs of hot chocolate follow us

To no avail

The cold is in us.

Finally

We pile the wood

The house creaks

It warms

‘Sigh’

Warmth has returned.

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Winter

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