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
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Steve Haarman 