The Winter Wars
Winter is a deadly companion to those of us
who stay behind. Spring is not guaranteed, only
a lonesome song, frozen on the lips of my
fellow crusaders.
The tip of the spear belongs to the "Ice Warrior"
Camouflaged under a dusting of snow, ink black
like the night or mind bending off sun glare,
always eager to send cars sailing and people
falling. I was one of the lucky ones...I fell
on ice and broke my arm.
I knew I would see Spring...first paying a
painful
toll. Political insanity mostly fills the front
page in Winter, the truth of those lost forever
to its treachery only whispered in the "B"
section.
Those of us who survive for one more Spring
and Summer bare a different attitude than our
fellow snow birds.
You'll see us standing alone among forest
wildflowers...or sitting quietly on a dolomite
boulder overlooking Lake Superior.
Oblivious to all but our grateful senses,
humbled
by
our
fragile
existence.
Minnesota Winter 2017
Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2017
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