Winter

What can I say about winter that a thousand poets
haven't said before?
Shall I mention the bitterly cold air?
The snow that muffles sound?
The branches of trees stark against the colorless sky?
My bed warmed by my beloved and a cat?
What can I say about winter that a thousand poets
haven't said before?
That I love my life this winter day.

WeaverRose
February 2007