Snow Poem

(Note: It’s 93 here, so I’ve been thinking of snow. We Oregonians are heat wimps.–jrs)

Snow time:
gift wrap around all
I can see from my
perch by the
Christmas morning fire.
Small tracks
split the front yard,
seeking sleigh sign.



About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in Chirstmas, Morning, Poem and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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