Another spell of frost

 Another spell of frost
casting magic through the fields
reflecting sun and sky smoothing furrows
crisp beneath the feet cracking in the trees
another branch last night.
Cap pulled down, my jacket open
foot-paths firm beside the hedge
Jack's paws wet and muddy
in the late noon sun.
Will it snow this evening ?
I doubt, but do not care
that's not my decision
come here to listen and to learn
talk to the birds, tell them of tomorrow
a word they do not know,
today is all they need,
come to think,for us the same,
but we,anxious, wait the morrow
which rarely comes. . . . .
at least that's what I find