the trees are covered in ice

it is early morning

the air is frigid

the day will warm

and the ice will melt

the trees are covered in ice

it is early morning

the air is frigid

the day will warm

and the ice will melt

the trees are covered in ice

it is early morning

the air is frigid

the day will warm

and the ice will melt

it continues

and continues

the reflection of the sky
in a pool on a barren
field.
is it possible to hold both?
the sun sets in one
and seems to rise
in the other.
this is perspective;
choosing to
turn murky water
into a looking glass,
a portal.

there is a
field
the crops passed
many seasons
ago
here and there
saplings have
sprouted
some thick
with seasoned
bark
from many
winters
around the field
is a stone
wall
it is
crumbling
and lost among
moss
and bramble
and small trees
that have found
their way
to the light
shooting up around
the stones
woven amongst the
rocks
hanging from
rotting
fence posts
and tangled up
in the
long grass
is rusted
barbed wire
camouflaged
against its
surroundings
it catches clothing
and
snags skin
leaving rust stained
lines
within flesh
as a
reminder
of its presence
the field is
all but
inaccesible
one can only
look on
through the various
seasons
and wonder about
the crops
that were once
planted
there many years
ago
one can only
look on
at the trees
that have leapt
up now
left
to their own
way
to their own will
without plow
or foot
to disrupt
them