Stream of Consciousness

Wind whistles over brisk and turns about
In middle test that catches fleeting rabbits feet
as darkness creeps and finds deceit that darkens
blue to midnight hues speckled white that harkens true
a bitter rest of tent and nest where cuddling children
huddle by their single candle's dripping light whose warmth
is quickly stripping seams through the tattered fabric weaves
that might not last the night if only under cover hiding
wisps of moonlights last and biding fears of iced over
grass and branches twigs molasses thick the air that fogs
the times test of glasses ticking by the mid-morn mare
that trots by a clicking of the shod hooves riding through
a frosted town of white and blue.