Frost Without Borders

The frost came after dark, stealing our world,

replacing it with a promise of winter

windowpanes resplendent in white lilac

as lawns of furry grass stand erect

fields in the countryside are ablaze

with pure white diamond sprinkles

#

Despite death's silent work—of trees, of plants—

transformation's afoot beneath the surface

frost holds to the seeds until it is time

to sprout their roots and breathe new life

#

Frost—it knows no borders; in its hostile takeover

lays across beauty here, but elsewhere, despair

#

My thoughts turn eastwards

to lands of turmoil, war

where frost coats debris, despair

where tomorrow is far from promised

Does it snow in Ukraine? I Google

"Winters in Ukraine are cold, snowy"

temperatures drop well below freezing

#

It makes me wonder, ponder—

Does Ukraine experience first frost as we do?

surely not, as its coating here heralds

the end of the year and the start of another

as here, frost coats grass, buildings,

there its powdered sugar coat covers missiles, debris, despair

as tanks carve paths through the frozen land

#

frost offers no promise or renewal or warmth

only silence, heavy like frost on desecrated ground

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Originally for the Frosted Verse challenge, but being entered into the The Sound of First Frost Challenge, from the POV of a Scot, myself, pondering the first frost here compared to that in Ukraine. Also, spurred on by the question posed in the poem about whether it snows in Ukraine or not. I had a feeling it did. Some parts have reworked nods to Cecil Day Lewis's beautiful and stirring A Hard Frost. You can read by following the link below: