Snow

A blanket white has come at last our way,
And covered up remains of work and play;
It now relieves the tasks which lie at hand,
They’ll wait ’till spring warms up this sleepy land.

Regret things all I want, it can’t be stopped;
Slowed down a little by the tent I bought
To shelter my machines so I can saw
’Till cold stops that as well ’cept for the thaw.

The days of thaw come scattered through the weeks
of winter – each a gift – a little peek
At season we’ve just left, or one ahead –
A touch of life when all around seems dead.

And so it is for us as we grow old –
Our hair, like snow, reminds us that we know
There’s tasks we can no longer do with grace,
While Chinook winds give peek at better place.

navigation