Late January, we are into winter

And cold,

The trees are becoming less dressed,

Leaves are dropping to the ground.

Cold and chilly visits our nights while

The sun drifts further away,

A woodpile ready for the season,

A fireplace that glows will be a scene.

Candles of many colors, shining

High upon the nights, peaceful times,

The wind can be heard beyond the

Windows, into the hills surrounding.

Slippers and a robe for warmth in the

Dark, and at morning’s light,

Snow on the mountain tops, such a

Winter sight, shadows, and cold.

A sleigh ride through the snowy

Woods, everything still and quiet,

Some deer are noticed in the distance,

They wander off through the trees.

Taking a walk dressed in clothes made

For the season’s cold,

My thoughts of winter are a dream to

Be realized, they come to life.

Keith Garrett