I look around to what

I look around to what?

I look around my amphitheatre, what for,
it is lonely, barren,weirdlike,
autumnal leaves shed and shrouded
by the murk of the soil, what do I want?
hugged by the double frost-laden coat,
my shivering feet move on, occasionally
entrapped by the slush, winter is pioneered
by the thunder and lightning, even my linnet is
missing, I crave for the tender sun, warmth
as tender as fragile as a newborn, summer’s
morn by the kitchen is salutary,
but Spring’s budding blossoms ,
With song birds around, an impetus
for a fresh write-up.