Winter's Night

Barren branches collect the sky
in somber waning evening,
the shadow of some spriest small creature
seeking shelter scurries past,
while children stand at frosted windows
entranced they watch the tumbling white,
through the stillness of the night.

This winter’s night is not for man,
but hearth and soup and bread
designed, to sit before the fire
when all but snow can scarce descry,
in the stillness of the night.

Streetlights give but flickering light,
while children play before the fire’s
soft wagging light when the moon
appears and lifts the shadows,
in the stillness of the night.