JUST A DAY

Right now, this is just a day, in mid January
Bright and sunny, but not considered warm
The breeze speaks with a bitterly cold voice
As if in this winter season, it has any choice
Yet the silence suggests an imminent storm
That the pale sun might see as an adversary

Empty fields, the occasional bird in the sky
As if the Earth were now bereft of mankind
But the icy breeze speaks again, in a whisper
Telling of how the air could be even crisper
Such that one new question comes to mind
And perhaps ask all the other seasons, why

Winter always did acquire a bad reputation
Deeds exaggerated, and largely unfounded
But even now, with no seasonal exemption
Today is offering a chance for redemption
As yet, no distant thunderclap has sounded
Its frozen countenance cannot show elation

By end of month, there may yet be snow
This season was allocated the very worst
Spring and Autumn OK, Summer is best
Winter was the one season never blessed
Any chance of a smile has been reversed
Tears turn to ice when they start to flow