The days are short
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor
And parkas pile up
Near the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees’ black lace
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.

Fuente imagen: Escuela en la Nube (http://www.escuelaenlanube