Silver birch and holly tree
Along the path I walk
Woodland curtain
Bringing cool elements to mind

Squelchy footprints and ice cold wind
Cutting through the trees
Silence of the woods brings peace
Except for the chatter of the crows

I see noone but imagine souls
Of long-gone folk not far away
Hiding, hiding
I quicken my step, yet the paths
Incline keeps my breathing steady but deep

My fingers start to numb in my gloves
A typical feeling as the temperature
Hits just above freezing

I shiver but maintain my step
Removing my gloves
Thrusting my hands
Deep into my pockets,

The light is failing now
Winter solstice only a week away
I feel alone yet strangely
The wood seems full of people.

My imagination running wild.
Turning back as the path ends I realise
How the sunlight has gone
Twilight wraps its grey fingers around me.