Frost Bites

A Poem by fox walker

The axe is a little more dull with every swing .

The flowers do not grow. The birds do not sing .

The days go by but no sign of spring

So cold I dread when it is time to get out of my bed.

For the winter is cold and very unkind.

As these unhappy thoughts freeze in my mind

Out the door into the snow..

to a warmer place... I shall go .