Frost on the windows easy air to breathe
Down by the river gulls swooping swirling
in the bright sunshine
My legs have carried
me all my life to places I never
imagined Now silently age has crept
up on me If I look to the east I
can see where the estuary opens
out into the empty sea I have my own
winter’s tales to tell times when my life
blew hot and cold love on the horizon
the 3 ships that sailed by one Christmas day
petals of snow falling gently settling
on the dry rose bushes—the beauty of
it Silent promise
of all things to come
John Lyons