Outdoors It's Cold Silent Bitter Still

Winter nights are most unwelcome guests -

They come early and stay late. 

Joyless, drab and dismally unsociable,

We hastily retreat indoors to avoid them,

Drawing the curtains tightly shut,

Turning the TV and our heating up

To forget what is outside out there.

Outdoors

It's cold silent bitter - still.

Time passes, patiently forming icicles.

Bored, the wind shakes barren branches

(Tossing leaves in Autumn's much more fun.)

Black ice broods in wait for drunken drivers

While unwanted dogs slink through blue shadows

Seeking refuge from the restless-relentless wind.

The skies are clear - but who's watching?

A photographer perhaps, time-lapsed like a poet?

But sensible people? Ah, we gather and party 

Indoors before the fire, where 

It's warm loud sweet - sparkling!