A WINTERS SCENE
I gazed upon that indiscreet scene
Their bare limbs reaching for the heavens
Eyed them in all there nakedness
All aspects of their once bright clothing
Left scattered on the ground.
Sometimes I think I misunderstand what I see,
But that’s alright, isn’t it?
I looked upon that self same scene
At that time, just before the dawn
Only to find that the night had hidden their nakedness
And clothed them in finery, tailored from frost
It just enhanced their beauty, enriched their form.
Sometimes I think I misunderstand what I see,
But that’s alright, isn’t it?
In the weak winter morning sunlight
As the night surrenders to the dawn
See them prancing, dancing with the wind
Are they just flirting
Or taking part in a strange courtship ritual.
Sometimes I think I misunderstand what I see,
But that’s alright, isn’t it?