A Poem For Winter, When?

On December 14, 2010, in Nature, by Meghan

Fall leaves flutter, blowing as clutter
through frosted nights. Winter in sight?

Coyotes yip when temperatures dip.
For food that lasts, squirrels work fast.

Cold arrives on breezes contrived
by a jet stream jarred, blowing hard.

Meghan leans into a jet stream jarred (photo by Bryon Powell).

Wet and white, snow sneaks by night.
So deep we sink under sunrise pink.

Junebug watches the snow sneak by night.

Willow stems alight, bark peeled, moose delight.
Too much energy to sit, chickadees flit.

Arrives the cold, into fur and feather life folds.
Fir trees wake. A winter life they make.

Diamond dust sprinkles and icicles tinkle.
Snowshoe hares leap atop snow unimpared.

Bootpack lines cut through snowy brine
to ridgeline wilds, conditions mild.

Heat returns, through base it burns.
T-shirts worn, skiing spring-like corn.

Empty skies make worried eyes.
Scrub jays squawk, toward a snow-less heaven they talk.

The world will wait on nature’s fate
for winter, when? Keep patient, zen.

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4 Responses to “A Poem For Winter, When?”

  1. Gretchen says:

    Beautiful! I especially like the lines “Heat returns, through base it burns. T-shirts worn, skiing spring-like corn.” That was totally Tahoe just a couple days ago. No more though! I think you’re winter’s coming.

    Also, I almost never write rhyming poems. So hard! Nice job.

    • Meghan says:

      Thanks, Gretchen! I hear Tahoe is round about plowed in with snow right now. No more corn snow for you for a winter, methinks!

  2. JeffO says:

    That’s very good, Meghan! Not just good but about the things we love most.

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