Winter

Winter, ink on paper by L.D

The world is still

The wind whistles

The branches bend and creak in the frozen air

Black crows cackle and it echoes over the snow

The steam from my tea cup

The warmth of the wood stove

the grey days of winter

The cold setting in, making life dormant

The light fades

And darkness arrives

It calls us to slow our pace

It calls us to quiet

It calls us to rest

L.D