The Smuggler

I have detected winter
being secretly smuggled in;

fringed on the edge of leaves,

collecting in low-lying fields 
as fingers of frost,
filigreed on arching grasses.

We all knew it was coming,
so we allowed the smuggler
deeper penetration
into our lives.

Putting on our clothes
of protection...

accepting the present...

dreaming of the future.

© 2018 Richard Havenga

Photo Locations: Townsend Park