Frore, foggy breathed, and spectre grey.
Its niveous landscape, wan and wet,
Promises nothing, and nothing we get —
Save longer days.
A gelid wind, sharp and violent,
Sweeps, and snarls, and mewles,
Pinching tired faces and chilblain-ing toes.
Winter bones ache for the want of apricity.
Curse this season, curse this ageing body.
A black moon kills the day,
And hungry foxes roam in pairs,
No slant of light to show the way,
They bark a dolorous threnody.
Nature bides its time (while Robins squee and peep)
And waits for fecund spring
To wake from hiemal sleep,
And turn up the thermostat — summer reset,
To begin the thaw… restore.
Dragon-winter lashes her tail of ice, and snow, and wretched hail.
A mistress cold, and cruel;
Silent, hurting, brooding,
Oblivious to subnivean stirrings.
Sombre, sad, and oh-so-drear,
And the worst month of the year.