Winter Garden

There is a stillness as I wander
the rows of the winter garden,
peaceful,
waiting for warmth.

Anticipation hides beneath the frost,
content with knowing seasons turn,
patient,
yet eager for the thaw.

The quiet is broken only by the wind
as it causes the dead leaves to rustle,
pretense
of growth and renewal.

The children watch from the window,
curious about my evening stroll,
ponder
what I search for in the cold.

There is a stillness as I wander,
content with knowing seasons turn,
prelude
of what I search for in the cold.
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6 Comments

Filed under Poetry

6 responses to “Winter Garden

  1. Sublime Such a happy change of mood from your recent political poems!

  2. ZQ

    Wow! That was poetic and right on! keep drinking the tea and peanut butter crackers 🙂

  3. I like this one, Mark. I can feel that quiet stillness in it.

  4. Reblogged your poem on The Happy Amateur:
    http://www.thehappyamateur.com/2016/03/winter-garden-poem-by-mark-windham_14.html
    Have been enjoying your lyrical poems.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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