Embracing the winter

Embracing the winter
R. Milian

Brilliant white snow covers the few remnants
of yellowish grass gasping for air.
Desolate park benches cry out for warmth.
A few ducks waste some time on the pond.
The golden sun reflects its light on scattered beer bottles left as
souvenirs from drunken souls.

The silent trees burst with squirrels that pirouette
on the branches like gymnasts at an Olympic Event.
Chunks of ice float like waffles on the slushy pond competing with the soggy bread thrown by strangers and ignored by disinterested ducks looking for a better meal.
The wailing wind whips my face moving my hair from side to side like windshield wipers. I move to an empty park bench, and I sit to admire the icicles hanging from the trees like pointy spears.

Sitting on the cold bench, I inhale the freezing morning and listen to the melody of winter, a song of renewal and cleansing. A rebirth, an awakening that spring is not far behind, and so, I embrace the winter and its wise message.