We have come upon January, there’s

A chill in the air,

The nights are darker, Last do they, a

Bit longer, it is winter.

Trees are dressed less, with the colors

That they wear,

The mountains seem lonely and cold,

Do they even know?

Winds of the season blow chilly and cold

Across creation,

Thick, misty fog moves in and covers

Late in the night.

On a clear, dark evening, there’s a light

That shines from above,

What a beautiful picture, winter moonlight.

Keith Garrett