Black and white world

Like gravel and rock 
Scars on the land
The year is
Etched and engrained
Colour  drained
Leeched away 
The world in 
Monochrome folds
Inwardly 
Unrecognisable in 
twelve long months
Hardly recognising itself in 
Its present form

But resolute it is and stoic 
As one huge oiled 
Machine it slowly burgeons forth
And cogs start to turn
And with them white
to colour
Splashed here and there
And slowly, very slowly 
It turns from monochrome.