Winter's Waiting-room

Oh, brook bereft of swoon

Oh, field bereft of sheaf

Oh, afternoon bereft of tune

By trees bereft of leaf

How still the barren hill

Of winter’s waiting-room

Within its sweep of umber deep

Sleeps summer’s soldered plume

Oh, gracious interlude

Of meadowland repose

Above the tomb of bud and bloom

A sea of silence flows

Oh, winter-ready ground

How cold and still you lie

The hour bereft of every sound

But Nature’s naked sigh

© Janet Martin

It was the silence that struck me when I was out today...clear, cold and still!