written By
Frost arrives without apology.
The pine stands as sentinel.
No bloom,
no color left to lose.
It asks for nothing,
draws no gaze.
Snow gathers where it pleases,
a white cloak
laid across the sleepy earth.
Branches arch;
a quiet bridge between seasons,
outstretched fingers
bearing winter’s weight.
Sparrows live through cold still,
each a small note held in the hush.
No pleading,
no display.
Even dusk passes without demand,
a veil slipping
over day’s bright face.
Abiding asks nothing.
Persistence
is a form of staying.
