15 nature poetry

The Fire of Winter

As I walk on the winding path,the brisk air

softly blows my hair, hitting my rosy cheeks,

as silence fill the air. The trees look like 

skeletons standing tall and covered in snow. 

A deer pop out of the brush,and I stop dead in

 my tracks as it sprints across the path.

 It's grand antlers and powerful legs are a blur.

Somehow in this barren country of snow, the deer

 are the only ones who survive while everyone else 

goes south. They scavenge,they stay,and they live.

 They are the fighters of the winter.

 As the deer travels out of my sight tranquility 

overcomes me. Silence fill the air again.

The wind softly blows my hair and hits my 

rosy cheeks. As I walk on the winding path 

I take in my surroundings and smile.