The ground is hard and frozen underneath

Bare piercing boughs reach their hands to heaven

Beseeching warmth and release

Release from this cold empty place


A hoar frost coats the ditch in a glaze of white

Sod crunches underfoot breaking silence

Nocturnal beings furtively stir

On this Hunger Moon night


Earth disrobed and sparse, air sharp and thin

Belies deep within the hollows, sparks of possibility

Deep within the stark, damp soil hope stirs

Germinating thoughts not yet ready to peer above the parapet of life


By: Veronica, Age 46, Wicklow (resides in the United Arab Emirates)

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