Winter Wonder

Last apples dance upon the wind,
Grass blades lean and brush aside.
The mountain stands, austere and still,
Where land meets winter’s ebbing tide.
Bare trees reach up, their leaves long gone
Ghosts of motion, cold and free
Spinning whispers through the air,
As if the world has paused to see.
Lights flicker on in distant bays,
Murmuring tales of former days:
Painted walls and garden rows,
Polished doors where welcome glows.
Box hedges trimmed with careful pride,
Old red post boxes, worn and shy,
Barely used now—time moves fast
Since handwritten words were passed.
House lights glow. The tree stands dressed.
Dad reads on, half-moon specs.
The room is still. The evening hums—
All the places we’re from.
These are the things that winter brings to me,
Since I could count to two, then three.
May the new year carry peace,
And teach the world how wars can cease.