This evening's damp sky / Emits an eerie warm glow / Without Orion.

Spongy wood, soft turf / Winter's moisture takes its toll / Soon it will all freeze.

Noisy dead yellow / Bright blues and dingy dull browns / All muted by white.

A field of prisms / Projects a rainbow of white / That only birds see.

The sun shines brightly / Life remains encased in ice / A world growing cold.

I saw the full moon / The morning mists hide the sun / Waking up in fog

Denim sky above / Children of cotton and yarn / Lace on my window.

Dim February / Birds puffed and children bundled / The sky threatens snow.

Cold winter mornings / Give way to chilly drizzle / And afternoon ice.

Pure wind driven snow / Reveals sickly yellowed grass / Betraying winter.

Pitch black sky above / Pierced by stars of bright gold / And shouts of "Who Dat!"

A blank void yawning / Ready to blanket the world / In a white silence.

Bound in white silence / The Northern sky grows dimmer / City noise strangled.

Vale of black velvet / Reaches down to meet cotton / Joined by brown stitching.

A sea of mirrors / Reflects a cool ivory sun / Awaking to snow.

Dim winter's twilight / The ground reflects a soft blue / Tufts of early spring.

Shepard. Wrex. Shepard. / Wrex. Shepard. Wrex. Shepard. Wrex. / Shepard. Wrex. Shepard.

Bare patches of gray / Stand out amongst the cold white / Longing for new snow.

Boughs of green and white / Bend under their velvet load / While somber stars fall.

Pure wind driven snow / Covers animal footfalls / Erasing the past.

Eaves gilded with ice / A cold world of endless drips / Each leaving its mark.

Night's smooth white silence / Broken by my soft crunchings / Only stars notice.

Dry well traveled roads / With occasional puddles / From the melting snow.

Dusk settles early / Tall trees cast no long shadows / Clouds cover the sun.

A man walks huddled / Against fog and winter rains / Why does he journey?

Youthful memories / Of last spring seem so distant / During winter rains.

Myrtle sponge of moss / The land is now a clean slate / Waking to chalk dust.

Morning's spring birdsong / Sounds a little out of place / Amongst the late snows.

A world of darkness / Stretches its morning shadows / To the winter sun.

Waking up early / Constellations lend no aid / To restless dreamers.

Muted limestone hills / Connect dampen earth and sky. / A colorless spring.

Under pale gray skies / Happiness is found with song / In a dull school room.

Sickly brown grasses / Frozen tears weep from limestone / Under mottled skies

How unseasonal / This empty cicada shell / Found in early March.

Although you hate it / Watch the spider's endless work / And glean my secrets.

Although you hate it / Watch the spider's endless work / And glean my movements.

Landscape remains drab / Horizon speaks of colour / Songbirds returning.

Piles of old snow / Lie by the roadside melting / In early spring sun.

Orange lines pierce through clouds / Above budding wooded hills / A setting season.

This azure spring sky / Feels far from autumn's partings / With its merging clouds.

Is it not now spring? / Why then does this cold rain fall / Like it's still autumn?

Gay little songbirds / Sing their morning arias / Despite this late frost.

Stars shine high above / Air laden with spring moisture / Winter's end is near.

Not even rabbits / Could rest in the cradle of / Tonight's slivered moon.

The chilly rain falls / Reminiscent of last year / And sunnier springs.

Gilded in silver / The fields on our journey north / Now gilded amber.