It was a fine tramp this ninth day of December, every step a win
It was cold, crisp even icy, the sun shone and disturbed the owl
On borrowed wings I am in flight to see and hug my kith and kin
A place where snow stacks thick, Moose moan and wolves howl.
Where lakes and rivers freeze like glass under a mysterious cloud
School children, skaters, skiers glide across a powdery white quilt
The Rowan berry breasted, clammering Bullfinches chatter out loud
Watch flurries of snow flakes fall, fat, whirling across fields like silt.
A.McTiernan
