Frost-Glazed Fields Poem by C Richard Miles

A diamond day and not a breath of breeze
Dares to disturb the flock-grazed frost-glazed fields,
Though at the edge, the hedge blends bolder black
Into the pastel picture 's crayoned chalk
And tall trees stretch bare branches, reaching high
To break the blank, impassive, winter sky.

The silent sheep stand gathered on the sward
Of close-cropped stalks while cowering in the cold.
So quietly they graze the short, stiff grass,
They surely hear my footsteps as I pass
And crunch across the crystal-crusted blades
And paint my footprints like a train-track trace.

Pale puffs of steam surround soft nodding necks
Beneath stark steel-grey stratus overhead,
The only motion in the meadow's mask
Of grim indifference that winter's back
To still the streams and spill the snowdrift deep
To numb all nature into ceaseless sleep.