In winter when the trees stand stark and bare,
the view behind our house goes on for miles.
I breathe the icy cold that grips the air
and struggle through the snow that drifts in piles
across the road, the walk and up each stair.
We watch it fall and can’t contain our smiles
until we have to shovel it somewhere.
“Let’s go!” we simultaneously declare.
The moment that we leave it all behind,
a rolling snow-filled valley fills my mind.
I’ll hold it in my stores of memories
while basking in a sweet, warm Southern breeze.