England. Poem by Kevin East

England.
Covered in snow.
Such silent art,
Outside my window.
And I feel
As lost as the sun.
What wind could blow frost,
That is spun
Into galleries of white.
From a farmhouse,
A distant light.
That bathes someone's soul.
Burning in a grate
Of wood and coal,
Rogue flames
Flicker and dance.
Charming their audience
Into trance.
And I feel
As lonely as the trees
Bereft of winter coat.
Left by summer breeze,
For the snowmen to gloat.
And every season has its way.
Be it so brief.
And I look up to the stars,
Like a single iced leaf,
Abandoned to die.
And-
From England
I send my dreams
To fly.