There is a winter storm going on here
all the roads are closed
and the stores are buttoned down ever so tight
I am here alone
in this great big old house
that sits among thousand year old trees
the wind whistles through the tiny cracks of age
on the splintered window sill
as frost clouds the blown glass
on the foyer window
I am having a wrestling match with the heavy front door
as the wind pushes against it
I can hardly see the road in front of the old house
as it is lost in a swirling white haze of snow
all the birds have taken flight within the edge of blue sky
and the tiny creatures have scurried to safety
within the splintered oak tree
that lean toward the old house
there dried out branches sway violently back and forth
threatening to snap at a moment's notice
then without warning
the cry of a lone wolf breaks the silence
howling against a moonlit sky
the snow drifts slowly towards the earth
like a sea of floating marshmallows
I am warm and safe wrapped within the old wooden beams
Listen to the whistle from a hundred year old copper tea kettle
sing like birds in a springtime dream
as rusted shovels await their turn
to play in the deep snow
ever so safe and secure
I wrap myself within the warm blankets that lie upon my bed
the night pass ever so slowly
like a dream you cannot remember
the slow and steady ticking of the grandfather clock
echo within the old frame house
I gather the wood of last year’s chopping
to feed the fire that will keep me warm throughout the night
outside I can see white smoke
spiraling from the chimney like ballerinas
in a soft silhouette
I hurry back inside from the freezing temperatures
that have my fingers tips almost purple
standing over the fire
I place a few more dried out pieces of wood
Into the hungry flames
the glow cast ghost shadows upon the ceiling
and the walls
Shakespeare my four legged companion lie peacefully
sleeping in front of the roaring fire
I take a deep breath and relax
within the quiet corners of my mind
then slowly drift off to sleep
several weeks pass and melt into the crystalline snow
as I continue to live the magic
of a dream caught within a
winter wonderland
then unexpectedly
there is a subtle hint of spring time air
that makes her
announcement
that winter is ending
the dream is over..
- Ken Riccio original poems ©
