"Old Man Winter," a Poem

Old Man Winter is coming in,
Wearing a cloak of darkling days, and
Clear, hard-frosted nights, when
Legions of stars shine cold and bright.

The North Wind will blow, with a scent of snow,
Under a steel-gray sky, then the snow will fall,
Down below, and up on high, and
All the birds will fly, for warmer climes.

And making rhymes, before the fire,
You will find me here, in Winter's grasp, as
Autumn makes its last gasp, and the last
Brown leaf flies past the windowpane.

- Rod Brock, 2006