Battling with bitter wind chill,

wrapped up like vacuumed packaging.

Yet still, the winter wields through

a soft woollen defence.

Clouded breath, feigning resilience,

I walk alongside a failing will.

In these harsh winter landscapes,

beacons herald, Christmas, then Spring.

We endure for now, this least favoured season,

attempting polite smiles, through chattering teeth.

White tuned bells frozen on emaciated trees,

Chime still sweet melodies.

Frozen droplets on washing lines,

cling like domestic stalactites

Ice princess dolly pegs swan lake in formation

Once remembered air dried cotton sheets.

Kisses blown by ladybirds and dragonflies

hovering in suspended thermal streams.

Clinging by a brittle thread onto branches

Refusing to give up the ghost.

The ones that stayed behind,

did not quiver or shake time.

deciduous natal home exiled,

leaves now a memory, passes by my washing line.