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Published:February 17th, 2012 15:40 EST

What's Worse--Snow or No Snow?

By Will Nixon

Winter Blues

            -- The Catskills

 

 

Grumbling up the road,

     the snowplow

           guilt trips me to shovel.

 

Shoving open the cabin door,

     I catch the red squirrel

          pop-eyed at the feeder,

 

a prisoner inside the squirrel-proof cage.

     Yet it squeezes free,

           scrambles up the hemlocks,

 

shaking off skeleton bones of snow

     that land oomph like pillows.

          Is it too much to hope

 

for redpolls, instead? Should I be satisfied

     with an escape artist who chatters

          incessantly?

 

The plow descends, spinning yellow lights

     and spreading sand

          like a trailing gown.

 

I`ll shovel tomorrow. For now I throw

     snowballs at the feeder,

          honing my aim.

 

For More Poetry

www.willnixon.com

 

Photo Credit: WikiMedia Commons