121222 sonnet As Winter Shows, The River Flows

As Winter Shows, The River Flows

I’ve long resided near the Missouri

In Omaha through pasture, field and town,

The Winters here, upstream, give nothing free,

Our culture’s built to hold the danger down.

We’ve pipelines breathing furnace warmth of gas,

A plowing regimen to clear the snow,

Our woolens sleep with feather down from geese,

We’ll hunker in and ride it out, as now.

Again begin the days of dim low light,

Some beasts and critters out there know to sleep,

The smarter birds have long since taken flight,

O’er paths of snow and ice our soles to keep.

Despite the effort made by one and all,

I hope next year I’m leaving after Fall.