I love the winter, love the snow
please don't get me wrong;
It's just that as the years go by
I find I'm not as strong.
On Tuesday, I shovelled hard -
did it all three times;
Yesterday came and, once again,
I cleared it while humming rhymes.
Rhymes I should have been writing
somehow, got left in the snow.
Today is bright and sunny, but cold -
but no words do I find I know.
Winter should be a time of rest;
that's what I used to think.
Right now I look over mountains of white
and dream of my flowers, pink.
Spring will feel most-welcome this
if it ever does arrive;
And when I tire of digging the soil
I'll think of the winter I survived.
Joan Adams Burchell
March 3, 2005