Winter.

                                    WINTER, a sharp bitter day
                                    the robin turns plump against the cold
                                    the sun is week
                                    silver faded from gold
                                    he is late in his coming and short in his stay
                                    Man, beast, bird and air all purging, all cleansing,
                                    earth already purified awaits the rite of spring
                                    Her bridal gown a virgin snow and frosts in her hair
                                    A snowdrop by the road today bowed gracefully
                                    and high upon the wing up in the sparkling nothingness,
                                    a lone bird began to sing
                                    Can gentle spring be far away?

                                                                                           - Tommy Maken.