Head under a wing

a bird sleeps whilst snow-melt drips

he wakes with a song

Silently falling

Disturbing nothing at all

Snow covers our world

I wake and know by

the absence of sound and soft

light, it is snowing

checking the wiring

touching everything, no mask.

this is how death calls

February seems

the coldest month; now winter

chases after spring

Brave little snowdrops

all shivering in the breeze

a horse snorts and stamps

how still the morning

a muted pastel palette

painted-out the storm

when autumn kisses

the leaves red and gold squirrels

frolic playfully

Afire with colour

autumn leaves light Mont-Tremblant

in radiant hues

white skeletal trees

whispering in the forest

tell of an ice storm