The Winter Child

The Winter Child

By Paul McCann

As the rain turned to sleet , smoke poured

from  the chimney pots on top of the little houses  around the streets  .

People hung clothes to dry on fireguards

and before going to bed they would put warm irons on top of their sheets .

  Inside the wee homes there was always a welcome warmth

of company to share around the soft fire glow  .
 
The coal and slack was piled up in the back yard for winter ,
always just in time before first fall of snow .

When winter would come and evict the spring ,
people closed their windows and shut the doors  ,
and  did their best to smile .

The future at rest in a space , with spring standing by the door
Beyond the mist it has to wait there a  while .

Mother Nature ready to open a welcome

for the spring child’s new colours to wear on another day .

But for now , there is just enough time left to melt the ice

in the sunshine where the winters child came to play .

.