No. No snow shots. No winter photos. Not yet.
I’m firmly in denial about this heavy shot of
winter snow, wind, and approaching bitter cold.
I want to imagine summer days,
deer in canola fields, blooming waves
of purple flax and the sounds of birds and insects.
I want to feel the sun warm on my face,
not snow in my hair and frozen lashes.
But the dog – oh the dog.
She loves this! Snow! Running and leaping.
Not too hot, just right for rolling fun.
She is a fall baby, grown into love
with the winter blanket of snow.
She bites the snow, digs into drifts.
Cuddles on the couch, cleaned by winter.
We balance it – the moisture so desperately
comes as snow, the promise of spring seems
darkly far distant as we hunker down to
snow, cold and short days easing to
darkness of winter but still…we wait.
Waiting gives us time to dream, to rest.
The busy weight of fall eases off.
We know it’s time to plan, plot and
to look inwards as the winter comes.
I won’t stop dreaming of spring.
I won’t hate the winter either.
I’ll lean forward and embrace
the special moments of quiet,
that only a cold snowy night
can bring in a busy loud world.
poetry #winter
Sunflower Poetry 