The year begins in quiet silver,
a world edged with frost
and breath that hangs like a promise
in the cold morning air.
An Airedale steps out,
steady and unbothered,
as if winter were made
for dogs with brave hearts
and wiry coats.
The grass crackles beneath him,
each blade tipped with ice,
and the first light of the day
catches on his whiskers
like scattered stars.
There is dignity in him
a calm acceptance
of the season’s hush,
a patience that says
this too is part of the year’s turning.
And sometimes,
in the stillness,
there’s a flicker of memory,
a soft footfall from winters past,
a reminder of the dogs
who walked this path before.
He pauses,
nose lifted to the pale sky,
as if acknowledging them,
as if carrying their warmth
into the coldest month.
Then he moves on,
frost on his beard,
purpose in his stride,
ushering January forward
one crisp breath at a time.
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Author:
Jane Walker (
Offline) - Published: January 30th, 2026 06:08
- Comment from author about the poem: As January settles in with its quiet light and frosted edges, I found myself drawn to the steady presence of an Airedale stepping into the first month of the year. There’s something about their calm dignity, their way of meeting the cold with purpose that captures the spirit of winter’s beginning. This poem is a small tribute to that moment: the hush of a new year, the companionship of a loyal dog, and the soft echoes of those who walked beside us in winters past.
- Category: Love
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
Metaphoric and descriptive this poem uses a dog as the envoy of the season if not ushering it in then at least accompanying it a harbinger of its arrival. Well written
Thank you. I'm putting a collection together. We had an Airedale and I really miss him since he passed aged 13 😞
You are most welcome thoughts of my past dogs still haunt me after years
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