Nith

It was the day after Christmas
when he slipped out of his house
nobody saw
nobody saw him
little boy in his boots
without cap without coat
he was only five
through the fields
no one stopped
no one saw
through the trees
he was known to wander
and so he did
he did he did
down to the river nith
and he struggled
in its icy depths
it was so cold, cold indeed
they searched and searched
oh the tragedy
little boy lost
he was only five, only five
now he's gone
they search on. 

February First

The snow is falling fast
in tiny delicate flakes
from the cold grey sky
as I settle into my desk
on a worn Saturday morning
while my frozen milk
thaws in the sink.
I have succumbed to acceptance
of winter
and of my life thus far.