North Wind descended from the pole
sending its wolf pack through snow-
bound trees that stood there, listless.
Then wind and wolves came, cutting
and shuffling, playing snap-the-branch,
chase-the snow-flake, and strip-jack-
naked. Wolves danced on their hind-
legs, round and round, shaking trees,
biting at branches, testing winter games
until trees stood naked, stripped of snow,
tresses and garlands gobbled and gone.
Oh, the wickedness of winter, its cold-
cut cruelty, the lash of the wind, ice-
pellets hurled, picketing fences, pecking
a wild winter-song, forlorn in its fury,
its pace, its power, its reckless race
to hurl everything away, out of its way,
snow twisted, tormented, twitching
its snake-way down barren highways
devoid of secret places in which to hide
tender faces from the North Wind.
Comment:
A big storm threatening, a Nor’Easter. We have been threatened before. But over the last couple of years, the threats have come to nothing. Snow falls in Shediac, Moncton, Saint John, Saint Andrews and St. Stephen. But it spares us. Travels up to Woodstock. Then on up to Plaster Rock for the Pond Hockey or as far as Grand Falls and Edmundston. But we are spared.
Last year, I used the snowblower three times. So far this year, I haven’t used it at all. It sits in the garage and yes, I am thankful that I don’t have to go out in the cold. And my beloved is thankful that she doesn’t have to do the snow blowing either. Now here’s a Golden Oldie for you. A memory from way back when. So colorless, it’s almost a black and white photo.
rogermoorepoet 