Invasion (Poetry)

Light snow is forecast locally —
the cruel winds blowing down
from the warring North
they carry ice at random
weapon clouds with jagged crystals
the grey glitter quietly cutting
air already thinned
and shredding up the dying rag-tail dusk.

Night lays in idle drowsy wait
as for unwelcome guests expected
it rolls out dark indifferent carpet
with no time given for arrival
the forest a worn target
spread for any weather-traveller —
an ambush point upon the map
the passing blizzard triggers
trap by trap by trap
* * *
Quite late — by slow degrees
sly trees are chilled to nothing
and the first few flakes announce
that more — a white-out army of them coming
need a place to settle safe.
Scouts test how branches bend
send a whistle shrilling skywards
so Winter’s troops turn sharp
                d
                    e
                        c
                            e
                                n
                                    d
and force their way inside.