Monday, December 29, 2008
January brings a world of snow:
Blizzards and freezing winds out of the North
Sweep down over the plains: we sally forth
Cloaked up and swaddled down from tip to toe,
Our noses frozen and too red to blow.
This in the coldest season of the year.
Grandfather Winter, kindly, though severe,
Makes woodpiles shrink and every snowdrift grow.
From time to time he silvers all the woods
And covers spruces with a drooping shawl,
And heaps icebergs upon the frozen shore
Where gulls brood: melancholy to the core!
We all pull down our hats and up our hoods
When old Grandfather Winter comes to call!
Anissa Nedzzel Gage, copyright 1997