NEAR THE END OF JANUARY
We are covered with a blanket of white snow
Walking in a clear, windy atmosphere is exhilarating
The lake’s waters dance to shore in ponderous waves
Shore lines are slowly changing, as they will
Birds and squirrels compete for their feed
There is enough for all, but they have no comprehension
The road has been abused by county snowplow drivers
They strive for perfection in areas of no importance and
Leave mounds of icy snow and the ends of our drives
Beheading is not an option although the thought occurs
This day will pass as did most of January and soon
We will be depending on the groundhog to bring good news
Six more weeks of winter is almost a certainty
I remark to working people on the beautiful weather
They look, in their ragged way, to me as if I were insane
All they want is out, the weather be damned
The gray sky has no breaks in it, but remains bright
I look at a faded rose in a tall vase of little note
Its head is bowed and you sense depression
Reflection on the past has me wondering
We made it through many winters far worse than this
Observations were made, but seldom complaint
It was considered a season that would come and go
There were difficult times then, too, but
Centering on hardship was something you just did not do
We, today, have many expectations collectively
Solutions to our problems are meant to be solved, but
We do not seem to look inward for the answers
Nightfall is still early, but the days are longer
There is more time to either be stressed or find happiness
I slow down when necessary and think about purpose
Problems melt away before my very eyes
When I return home the lake’s waters are still singing
The shores are still absorbing punches
Skies are silvery-gray and in the west the hidden sun goes down
My life is a miracle, a wonder, and I am filled up
I lift my eyes upward above the trees and whisper praises
Stansberry McKricken
January 28, 2025^
Steve Haarman 