Minus 18

Sorry it is yet another poem and not a proper blog. It is so cold in my study that I am not keen on spending much time at the computer; the log fire is much more inviting. There is not much on my mind these last few days other than keeping warm.

I hope normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

I was inspired to write this little poem though.


Minus 18



I have walked this day in sunshine
and in the lighted snow,
have found there can still be joy
amongst the cruellest, fiercest cold
for I have trod amongst diamonds
and as frosted jewels surrounded me,
I was made rich.

Two well-fed dogs ran beside me;
covered in white, all sniff and snuffle,
racing and falling, they would laugh and rise again.

Among the maiden snowfall,
across the field and by the frozen river’s side
lay snow prints of a record-breaking, freezing winter’s night;
fine drawings in a stark and saddened monochrome;
lines drawn by otters, foxes, badgers and the rest,
all had crossed this hardened, whitened winterland
but were they writ in hope or desperation?


Cait O’Connor