Winter Scene

Winter waited for the first of March
to show up, just as I was getting up
to lock the door.

I must admit, you've transformed
this brown, tired place into
the Great North Woods.

The tree branches hold the snow,
fog settles around the hills,
picturesque, certainly,
but there's a darkness.

It's no winter wonderland,
no pixies or frosty snowmen,
something heavier

As if you were out in it
trudging, exhausted,
light fading and the sweat
of your labor cooling
causing you a chill you know is dangerous,
but secondary to the solemn
menace of wolves
howling close,
on both sides of you now.

You'd like to leave behind
some sort of message,
but you run out of fluorescent
multi-vitamin fortified urine
half way through

LO...