Winter’s Blessed Wind Chill

December night acquires a fuller moon
that lights the whitecaps on the Ijsselmeer.
I pace to warm myself, attempt a tune
the wind absconds with, wiping off a sneer
from my chapped lips. A sleepy heron stands
just inward of the rocks that take the spray.
It dews his feathers, flecks and chills my hands.

Winter’s Blessed Wind Chill appeared in The Olding Man

2 thoughts on “Winter’s Blessed Wind Chill

  1. Beautiful poem and how I would like some winter chill. Happy Holidays to you.

    Sent from my iPad


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