Wild Western Blizzard

What could I really know of the breaks in the land huge canyons bleeding red cut by the wind with the snow swirling around our tires barns upright and fallen to a tumble like icebergs windshield riming over with a crust of ice we scrape madly inside trying to keep cold out speed slowing slowing to a crawl always on the lookout outside line appearing and gone, no worries about cattle led inside to safety to be watered and fed but what of us? Will we be trapped clutching a candle wanting a chocolate bar, waiting for a tractor? and all the flat seeming land seems to have ditches and roof pitches and rushing trees, and a swirl of slumbering snow to lumber down in drifts and piles no fire would ever warm us temperature dropping dropping until finally we see it shining in the dark a lantern at a farm a fleet of snow mobiles to greet us scurry is off before our ears turn blue, would they fall off? Luckily, not tonight, not in this blizzard, we have home.