Winter Poem by Travis Lepine

The air blows high the frozen mass,
Pine trees cloaked in fine frosted powder.
As bitter eyes ponder through frosted glass
The night whistles quietly but vicious the bite
That clings to surroundings-a frosted blight.

The hawk flies south in panic and haste
To avoid the death of Canadian winter.
Mighty black bears are readily braced
For they have prepared for it before
Again! They must once more.

Glaciation solidifies running creeks,
It veils the pink brook trout,
Lengthens to the mountain peaks,
And hollowness devours the land
In a barren of white grains of sand.