Wild geese pepper a grey soup sky,
hanging almost too thick for flight.
Colors only shocking by their absence
beg seasoning to flavor the season.
Trees down to twigs poke stiffly in wind.
Snow-swollen sticks of marshmallows,
they freeze far above the fire of Spring,
stirring and simmering deep underground.
Lori Boulard
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/impressions-of-winter/
