This poem was published in Lyrical Iowa, 2016, by the Iowa Poetry Association
Thoughts During One Cold Winter Week
This newly fallen snow said it was waiting
for the first footprints to break the surface
and reveal the inches of softness beneath the crust
formed by belligerent gusts last night.
Instead, I leave it virgin
and choose the plowed streets for our morning walk,
the sun just tickling the horizon.
My beagle keeps pace, searching for scents to sniff
while I push onward against the wind bundled like Abominable;
my daydreams of humid summers and sunny beaches
turn yellow, yet not broken.