Gray Day

'Tis wonder as wind excites the hedges.
Inside it is January '09.
Winter bit off all the green edges.

All, quick frozen, waiting and still
I stare out fixedly into overcast
A staunch picture of nature's will

I can feel the cold wind stinging my flesh.
But here I sit, warm behind my desk,
Knowing how now and past can mesh.

Sense and thought meld and I shiver,
Then I imagine a winter wonderland,
A frosty snowman, from the mind's quiver.

I record my thoughts with poetic word,
Thinking how the mind creates poetry
And sigh, to think, it may never be heard.
Richard Lynn Livesay '09