Snow Dust Farm Morning (POEM)

handtoolsnow

Snow Dust Farm Morning (POEM)

Snow dusts my farm,

As I awaken this morn.

Trees resting deep in slumber.

Animals, not moving,

Still resting.

The chill gets to us all.

White brush strokes on everything,

Soft and white,

All around.

This farm,

She wonders,

Shall I wake yet?

Or, shall I curl up and sleep for a while?

The animals,

huddled in warm bundles.

They too wonder,

Shall I awaken?

Or, shall I curl up and sleep too?

I pour my coffee and watch.

Dripping sugar crystals,

Dusting coffee,

like the snow dusts my farm.

Oh, to huddle in warm bundles,

Curled up with coffee, wood stove and Robert Frost.

Dust of Snow
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
 #######
I drink in his words, my coffee and this view.

White brush strokes on everything,

Soft and white,

All around.

This farm,

She calls me,

The way the crow shook down on me,

The dust of snow from a hemlock tree.

(Which) Has given my heart,

A change of mood.

And, has saved some part,

Of my day too.

L. Davis, #thepoetfarmer

writing on snow at the farm this morning as I look out the window and see snow topping the trees on the hills above our farm.

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