Splintered Reflections

Tangled hair and faces chilled to a burn
From a bonfire-scented howling gale
Encouraging technicoloured dancers;
Leaves of umber, saffron and copper rose

Warm doorways open to those braving the chill
Offering backache and blistered palms
Steaming cups of comfort, after a Sunday’s toil
Lovingly coaxing the garden to a winter’s slumber

Swollen feet up on a familiar cosy chair
Wind whistling its reminder through poor insulation
In combat with the log fire’s efforts
To thaw chilled limbs back to sensation

Shedding branches against a crisp azure sky
Rolling terracotta clouds, backlit from sunset
Those mischievous, enchanted dancers
Tumble in the round once again