A crackling sounds in the trees

From the weight of a rain-freeze

Icicles drip from branches bare

Not much fun to be in, out there



But to look at, from the warmth inside

Evokes an aura quite undenied ...

And the barren grey sky over it all

Creates a backdrop that is really cool



But not so much fun is ice tapping ...

Upon glass window-panes, now slapping

Drumming out a beat with its timbre

In tones not making one feel limber



In fact, under these kinds of conditions

Cracks come from two different directions

Outside, from the ice glazing the trees

And inside, from the bones in one's knees



- Tristram



© Christopher W. Thomas

12:25pm Sun. Jan. 3rd, 1999