The Winter Sun

Winter sun
The winter sun
Struggles to rise,
As lazy dawn still
Wrapt in slumber
Turns over to lie in
A few moments longer.
The sugar dusted
Scene emerges,
As blush-pink sky gives way
To sharp blue.
Indoor warmth deceives
The harsh outdoors,
As defiantly cold as
An Eskimo’s stare.
Air so cold it burns
The cheeks and
Unfeelingly removes
All feeling from ears
And toes.
Yet this freeze frame
Still of suspended animation,
Brittle white,
Allows perceiving of
Colour and form
Which summer’s
Bright flourish hides,
But which presents
For a moment, still,
Under the winter sun.

Winter sun