A year’s morning

The air is cold, the wind is crisp 

It howls by night and seeps by day 

Through tiny cracks that none can see 

But the malicious spirit, living there 

In every gale, breeze, gust and blow 

Seeking holes it might squeeze through 

Seeking warmth to suck outside 

Seeking steam to whisk away 

Finding you, though you may hide 

Settling in and there to stay 

 

Who is this grim, silent guest, uninvited? 

Whose is the presence that sits there so still? 

The pale man, the wailing white slip of a child? 

The air seems to freeze all around them, grow icy 

The figures move slowly, as though made of stone 

The thin hand stretches to brush dust from the sill 

There flourishes a pattern of spirals 

Of dots and of flowers, chrystaline, clear 

That covers the glass like a thin second skin 

The pane through which there comes the sound 

Of the wind still howling and rattling to enter 

 

I can no longer listen 

To that high, plaintive wail! 

Take me away from here, over the mountains 

Take me far from this gloomy dark place 

Carry me over valleys, over wheat fields and hills 

Let me feel the warmth of the sun on my face 

Let the summer evening air 

Rake mild fingers through my hair 

 

The air is cold, the wind is crisp 

The sky is white, or clear and grey 

If the sun chanced to show his reluctant face 

I would be grateful, I’d laugh and I’d smile 

But the sun does not hear me 

He cowers beyond the tufty, iron-grey clouds 

Like one bedridden and desperately ill 

Oh, if only the air were not so terribly still! 

If at least plenty of fluffy white flakes were to float 

Down with the wind, that dancing, thin phantom 

To lay on the land, its pearly, soft blanket 

That it has slumbered too long without 

But snow it does not, and the rain deigns not either 

To fall from the heavens, the clear, frigid grey sky 

And pierce this everlasting, rattling breath of our guest, the wind 

Who knocks, still at the frost-covered window outside 

 

I draw the curtains but can do nothing to keep 

The cold fingers from prying 

The crannies and gaps 

Wide enough open, to let in chill, cackling whisps 

That flood and cool, that climb and creep 

 

It’s too cold here, it’s sad and it’s dry 

Let me go somewhere with bright, clear blue skies 

Where I can sit and listen 

To the crashing of waves 

Against the fine, toasty sand 

Let me just lay there a while in the light 

And breathe the warm, salty sea air 

 

The air is cold, the wind is crisp 

Things have been robbed, have been leeched of their colour 

The grass lies dull when it used to stand 

Tall and proud, of emerald green 

The trees above it hang their branches 

Degectedly down 

Twigs like claws grasp deperately 

At grey passers-by, in a pathetic plea 

For anyone able to lure out the sun 

And have this grey, windy winter over and done 

Usher the icy, grim guest back to his lair 

He has outstaid his welcome by days innumerable
He has sat there and waited, on his ricketty chair 

For me, though then I knew it not 

To draw back the curtains and open the window 

For him to climb out and in to come 

The glowing warm yellow, the light of the sun 

That gently laid, upon my weary pale face 

A hopeful smile, a touch of grace 

A spark in my eye, a spring in my pace 

As out, into the cold air and crisp wind I lean 

To check whether it truly is as it seems: 

There flutters by a red-breasted, cheery creature 

“A robin! A robin!” I call to myself 

It hops on a branch, glad that soon 

The world will reside in this year’s noon 

Violets will once more nod delicate heads 

Brooks will unfreeze and babble and rush 

Roses will bloom, their plump buds will blush 

The robin loops and it glides, twittering gladly 

Carried through the cold air by the crisp winter wind