So cold it is on a winter’s day,

Trees in the distance are empty,

With a touch of frost upon them.

Appears very quiet, with not a soul

To be found,

Nature by itself, nature not disturbed.

A fence runs across the snow-covered

Land,

Followed by shadows that accompany

Its path.

Around the trees, through the

hills, and everywhere,

As the sun goes down there

Are shadows, shadows in the

Snow.

Keith Garrett