Old Winter Poem

Winter Play

The frost white fell upon us, heaven sent,
On landed ways, on bush and bended branch
To soften edge of nature all, intent
To wrap in cold. Enrapt at avalanche
And windrift deeps we watch from quiet window
Warmth while, in it, about, small kindred play.
Stumbling, bundled, made thus incognito
But known by voice alone, “Come out,” they say,
“Come join the roll about and chase us each!”
We shake our heads, too drunk with comfort’s peace
To leave each other, cider, cushioned seat.
We clothe ourselves in house instead of fleece,
And coat, and hat, and scarf, and boot, and glove.
We know the winter way, and cold thereof



by Evan Wilson