Subject: Sweet, Quiet Morn
From: Christopher W. Thomas (
Date: Sat Jan 2, 1999 at 10:33AM

Oh, sweet, quiet, morn

To what are we born ...
There's a stillness in air
And no traffic to bear ...

Birds are under cover
One lone squirrel buffers
Between ground and trees
With nuts clenched in teeth

Cold breezes are missing
Even though frost is dissing
Freezing breath below nose
Icing up so much it shows

Hearing the crackling now
As heat warms up the brow
And icicles caught up in nostrils
Eventually, become old fossils

Oh, quiet and cold morning
A bittersweetness is dawning
The bright stillness is an omen
Of a greater frost now roaming

Storms to cause an icier glazing
Are promised here by day's end
And the quietness will be supplanted
By icy cold winds so disenchanted ...

- Tristram

Christopher W. Thomas
8:57am Saturday, Jan. 2nd, 1999