February Chill

The sky is painted a sombre grey
the only mark upon the monochrom expanse,
the luminous ball of cotton fluff that is the sun,
— a frosted bulb, behind an equally frosted window; 
the air clear and crisp, though silent.

The gloominess of this February day 
could chill the warmest heart 
but for the drifting scent of smoke 
from some unseen wood fire 
that brings a flood of warmth to mind and body. 


february 2005
Janet Reid