Ice sculpture

Air surges freezing from the east
Its chill enhanced by raging wind
Still powdered white these leaves, not those
And feeling pinched are fingers, toes
Bare branches wild thrash toe and fro
Of those that sleep but somehow know
That winter has us in its grip
Allowing not a drop to drip

‘Now wrap up warm,’ I hear her say
‘Before you go outside to play.’
In far off days of carefree joy
When Nature watched a little boy
While slipping, sliding, compressed white
Snow crystals from gloved hands took flight
And he of coal eyes, mouth and nose
Stood somewhere near in easy pose

I look into the cold blue sky
With sculpted smile of times gone by

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