RSS Feed

Fresh Snow

     In the night,the holidays folded up their tents and moved on. Snow fell while no one watched. Somewhere before dawn, it covered the tracks of the wagon wheels. Morning now. Snowing still.
     Sweep up the tinsel and pine needles. Turn away from that melancholy year. Look out the window at the snowy field spread before us. Deep and crisp and even. Even this—ready for the paths we’ll follow, and those we’ll forge.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice

Shades of Gray - Denison TX

Photographer of Life in North TX & points beyond

Red Wolf Poems

Prompting new poems for Red Wolf Journal

Writing the Day

A Poetry Practice

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

%d bloggers like this: