In fiercest winter held (Photo: Faye Sarras)

High in the fiercest winter held
The hot sun slices bitter cold
Caught the scorching light and chill
Taut the lines that my strained will
from falling like last autumn’s leaves
From falling under shares that plow
Before the insects from their sleep
Awaken seeds and thoughts so deep.

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is also the author of Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..