Waiting For the Storm

Darkness in morning;
A lone goose calls in the sky;
The world waits for snow.












He worked until night
Chopping up the fire wood,
Waiting for the storm.

The stream moves softly,
Sliding under the dark sky;
Even cars are hushed.













Skeletal branches
Framed against the darkened sky--
Frozen silhouettes.









Now there is silence;
I hear only my footsteps,
Then a distant plane.









The grizzled old dog,
Free from incarceration
Barks as usual.

Sticking from a tree:
Perfect frosted letter "P"--
Nature's alphabet.

Leaping over road,
Extending from the tall tree--
Skeletal reindeer.

A few tiny flakes
Seem almost an illusion;
There will be others.

The goat is bleating;
The air is filled with white specks;
Snow storm has begun.