My Cottage
As a child, I remember riding
in the country with my folks,
in the winter, in the woods
among the pines and oaks.
I recall a little cottage
at a distance from the road,
which I couldn't see too well,
planned that way, on purpose, I suppose.
In the winter in the twilight,
with flurries of soft snow,
it stirred my imagination
and it intrigued me so.
I'd press my nose against the window
of the car as we'd drive by.
I loved that little cottage then,
though I had no idea why!
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