Winter Garden


Before Spring dances in to stay, I offer one more tribute to Winter.


The winter garden is skeletal,

stripped to its bark-bones

and skinny stems.

Brown, brittle seed heads

of Black-eyed Susans shiver

at the wind’s cold whisper.

Tattered leaves

of frostbitten Citronella





A chill gust whips

the dry rust-red cascade

of sleeping Creeping Jenny

into a wide awake, wild dance,

its fronds a frenzy

of airborne ribbons.

Branches of Crape Myrtle sway

like arms with curled fingers

offering pearled brown seed pods

to the winter-blue sky.

If it seems that I’m describing dreariness,

and dearth,

and death,

perhaps I am.

But I mean to paint a graceful picture,

artful wonders formed by frost

and darkness

and biting wind,

paring back the backyard world

to its simple glory,

its skeletal scaffolding,

the elemental beauty

of Nature’s underpainting,

a delicate design

visible only

in this


– kh –


Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.


Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.