Kindness of Winter
The trees have given up their gold,the evening comes before its time.The wind has grown a little bold,and frost has learned the window’s lines.
Yet somewhere underneath the snow,a thousand sleeping gardens lie.The earth remembers how to grow,though nothing green can meet the eye.
And I have come to love the cold,the naked branches, pale and thin.For even winter, growing old,must leave a little room for spring.
johnthegriot.com/poems/kindness-of-winter