Sunday, December 26, 2010


Editor's note: "There are many things about winter that are beautiful and fascinating, but of course it depends on your vantage point!" Dad wrote as the introduction to this poem.

I like snow;
I love to hear
The north wind blow;
Not just a cold December breeze,
But really howling through the trees,
Like screaming, wailing
wild banshees.

I like the frost,
On door and window
Pane embossed;
And hung like garlands, clean and bright,
On fence and shrub, reflecting white;
Or ghostly in
The pale moonlight.

I like to see
The drooping branches
On a tree,
Bent down, to touch the ground below,
Each one transfixed into a bow,
By weight of heavy
Sodden snow.

I like the season,
For each above
Related reason;
Oh, yes, I love it, every minute
Have no complaints at all ag'in it,
If I don't have
To go out in it!

--Eighty After Eighty (1995)

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