Snow is on the ground tonight
Distant clouds have a tinge of pink
The lake water is metal gray
There is no euphoria to sink
Old men are walking the woods
Trying to chart where mushrooms will rise
They are bearded and wrinkled
Walk with bent backs, but they are wise
Smelt should soon start their runs
Trout remain in deep water where
The river flows into the lake
The high water gives everyone a scare
I look up into the trees
There is no sunlight shining
The waves are small but persistent
Compared to yesterday’s more refining
Snow continues to fall
White against dull color
No rush for seeds and planting
We must wait for our sunflowers
My flamingos are standing steady
They are faithful through all seasons
Some wonder why they stay, but
To leave me they have on reason
The mother fox has left us
Her pups under our board walk thrived
I think she must have lost her life
Maybe just moved on; I hope she survived
We think of all the changes we see
Just a part of life’s wonder and mystery
We think of all the variances and know
Mother Nature has her own chemistry
We cannot prod; we patiently wait
We know things change be season
It hesitates and changes its timing
We acknowledge as men of reason
What can we do, what can’t we do
No one really has the answer
Before we blink or think even twice
It will be the season of Dasher and Prancer
Stanski
April 16, 2020
Steve Haarman 