The wreckage of winter
has left the landscape
rolling gently
yet strangely bare
shivering in the frigid air
where
rags of mist and cloud
drip
tears
on branch and bark
of naked, twisted trees
that turn their backs
on the chilly breeze
snow and ice have left their mark
and streams and rivers
full to the brim
overflow with glinting moisture
soaking garden, field and pasture
softening the iron ground
until new life and hope abound
© Kim M. Russell, 2016
writing in north norfolk 