Lost in a Fog!

Each winter day embalms the trees

With heavy mist and chilly breeze

We sleep in late and miss the dawn

Yet each day wake to brighter morn!

 

Without the sun to shed its heat

Just footsteps, not birds, in my street.

The groaning refuse truck goes past:

Debris from last week embarked fast!

 

Mid-week and time to take a pause

Warm as toast, I stay indoors

And contemplate what brings me joy;

How should I my day employ?

 

For many, life is hectic, fraught,

As schools, where children should be taught,

Are faced with teachers COVID-ill:

Will retirees now fit the bill?

 

The family shop costs more each week

Fuel and lighting reach new peak;

I cast around for some bright gem

But must admit defeat - pro tem.

(c) Poet in the woods 2022