Boxing Day

The bracken bows it's broken head
As the snowfall increases, thicker and thicker.
Falling to the floor of the forest
Becoming deep, soft, white inches of snow.

The small deer's hoof leaves a clear print
As she follows her mother on the side of the hill.
Down below, on the tourist trail, several brightly clad people are walking.
Clapping hands and stomping feet as they go
Christmas present scarves and hats tightly wrapped around cold flesh.
Trying to walk off yesterdays excess..

Creaking in the wind
The woods feel the cold in the air
The old oak tree finds itself home to another icicle
Long, thin with a muscular twist and a drip on it's nose

The old Counting Crow cors at the world and hops along the branch
Eyes watchful and waiting
Chancing on a rabbit on the road nearby
He is down and quickly to work
Picking on warm fresh meat.