January...January...January.
My glum lone patch of sticks and stones and broken bones
lying in solitude on that bare frigid ground.
Wind cutting through the void like a thousand knife blades.
Puffed and fluffed birds huddled shyly on branch edges
anticipating my reluctant pilgrimage.
Seeds, water jug, and billowing unbuttoned coat;
waggish freezing jackrat terrier underfoot;
face all scrunched up against that harsh awakening-
my humble grounds in fitful slumber taunting me
to find grace in what does not easily delight.
January...January...January.
Great photo's, and I just love the image of 'puffed and fluffed birds', I can just see them, wonderful :o)
ReplyDeleteLove the whole sense of your poem, Yvonne. And your photos are always just so beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI always love your blog, you inspire so many people.
ReplyDeleteVery inspiring. Great photo's. Thanks for visiting "the Girls" yesterday! Margot & Harriet say "cluck cluck" xxx
ReplyDeleteyou really do take a cracking photo
ReplyDeleteWell written, and nice photos as well.
ReplyDeleteI try to avoid wishing my life away, but January temps me, I must admit. I still enjoy every new day for what it's worth, I would hate to miss one.