Twisting trees, tangled in snow,
Struggle amid the drifts;
The twigs and stalks
Are entombed in frost,
The lakes are locked in a chilly embrace;
Our very breath freezes,
And the cold crunches and squeaks
Beneath our feet.
The only colour granted the earth
Is the rosy sun, which turns
The glittering white into dusky pink.
The world is smothered in winter’s mantle;
Even the forests have been silenced,
Till spring opens the gate.
~ Ilana Reimer