A soft crackle, ice on a window pane.
Leaves and grass crisp underfoot
Not dead, but edged with frost
A biting wind whispers, pinking cheeks
Not harsh, but gathering cold from frost and snow
Patterns form, slow and steady and spreading
For once, spiderwebs are not invisible
Frost clinging to delicate strands
Highlighting nature's artistry
Weak sunlight pierces the clouds
Battling cold to melt away the chill
A cracking sound, an icicle falls
Stronger wind whistles through bare branches,
No longer muffled by leaves.
Rattling pine needles and cones
Even evergreens are touched with white
The first frost of winter, but there will be many more.
About the Creator
Natasja Rose
I've been writing since I learned how, but those have been lost and will never see daylight (I hope).
I'm an Indie Author, with 30+ books published.
I live in Sydney, Australia
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More stories from Natasja Rose and writers in Poets and other communities.
Center Stage with Gina C.
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hubler5 days ago in Interview
Comments (1)
A beautiful flow of visual imagery, encapsulating winter. I could imagine myself being there. I really enjoyed your careful attention to language to curate the moments that pass and the sense of onomatopoeia that heightens the cacophony of single moments.