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  
paths firm beside the sheltered 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 me  the same ).
Yet we, anxious, wait the morrow  
which rarely comes. . . . .  
at least that's what I find.