A Dying Winter

The rain stopped, Heavy bank of clouds remained, Afternoon was dark until dusk, No light to draw back the day, A strong frost shock, Gripping the land, Unrelenting, The trees fell silent, Along the gullies and wet ditches, A faint mist was rising, Winter's last stand against spring, The temperature descended, The wood tightened against the cork, As if the wasted wood might snap of the ground, A fine crack froze over the dew pond, The circle of the ice was finally closed.