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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Hindered by the depth and breadth of winter Cliffs dangle just outside the bungalow With clear icicle mysteries remote Hanging over shingles for dear life Inside, imprisoned safe and sound The hunter counts his rounds of ammunition Riffle nestled useless by the common fire side No chasing prey this season Sleep takes its place Why shoot the snow without a reason It would only blow around and settle somewhere else Outside the storm brings misery Three feet of snow to block the door Wind rattles windows to claw inside The cabin remains remote, imprisoned Embedded in the snow More inches rise with no where else to hide But down on frozen lakes on powder blue Cold holds on to banks of solid earth All those inches piled high for what Filling up the landscape with so much white Pines cling on to memory of ice below the tundra line Like all good trees they freeze but never die Over sleeping keeps the bears in dens No need for hunting them It would only mean their end The realization of how quickly drifts can rise Accumulations conspired by cruel natures wrath Shear numbers of snow flakes conspire Wind and sky hold up the nights good-bye Now stuck inside the simple shelter fixed Winter bound, oats are hunters sustenance, companion Along with tea and lemon, honey makes the best of company Will see him through to doomsday, till things turn about Closed in on times advances A captive audience of one Now waits in winter wonder On snowy mountain counting down the hours
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