The seasons turn

This solstice is winter's first bite at the apple
Icy fingers reach in from tent up to chapel
Not a roll of the dice like a bolt from the blue
But celestial clockwork that always comes due

The leaves are all gone, you won't have their protection
From chill winds blowing in from every direction
The year's longest night gives you much time to ponder
The human condition in tones that are somber

As a poet observed with a sarcastic edge
“Neither rich man nor poor may sleep under a bridge.”
Will you be locked in your home all snug in a bed
Or locked out with only dark skies overhead?

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The “quote” in the poem is a reference to Anatole France's:

In its majestic equality, the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges, beg in the streets and steal loaves of bread.

The poetry dice challenge for this week involved writing a poem inspired by these 9 images with the theme of “Solstice” and the opening “This solstice is...”: