January 26, 2008


Saturday morning and the shadows
go on forever across the snowy hills
like footsore troopers in column of route
intent on reaching their faraway homes

somewhere in the high wind a single
pine cone is trying to dance its way
free and come to earth again, no
make that snow - just snow again

snow is all there is here now, just
this blue snow and bone deep cold,
one elderly female out in the wind,
holding her camera and dreaming of spring