Cold steam rises from the wooden fence,
Frost lifts from the ground in wisps,
Mist whispering across the air in fireless smoke
As the sun dissolves the crystals of icy hoar frost:
The earth breathes again.
The robin must have cold feet
As he deftly lands on the slippery globe
Of the ice coated solar garden light.
The bird table drips with pearls:
Water for thirsty beaks freeing itself to be devoured.
Birds perch on roofs
Silently watching and waiting
For the sun’s microwave to defrost their food.
The trees weep liquid diamonds,
Sparkling briefly as they fall to succour the ground.
Glistening light runs a thin trace of fire
Along a gossamer thread so fine
That briefly catches the sunlight,
Floating on an unseen and unfelt breeze:
Illuminated danger visible for a moment;
The spider has been busy.
A leaf slowly unfolds
From the sharp grasp of ice.
Crystalline feather frost decorates with a lacy trim:
Nature’s mathematics on show
In intricate perfect patterns,
Which having coated its host in the secret dark of night
Now melts away in the face of sunlit day.