Cold grey, January day.
Duck lake, not Swan,
And every one is an ugly
One.
Muddy footprints,
Bike tracks too.
Mountain bikes rush past
Out of the blue.
Bare trees, bare branch.
Bare seat. Too cold to sit.
The wind is chill.
No time to stay still.
But walk a mile
Enjoy the view.
No longer frozen
Hands warm
Breath full
Revived.
Mallaband-Brown 
Always works for me! ❤ I like your poem.
LikeLike
Cheers.. I only walk short distances. Need to do more. X
LikeLiked by 1 person
A mile is a mile! ❤
LikeLike
True… Better get back to bed now… 5.15am here x
LikeLiked by 1 person