Winter Poetry

Approaching Storm

The weatherman on TV
(You know the one)
Said he was ninety percent
Sure the blizzard
Would arrive
Before midnight

At the witching hour
I strained to
Hear what
I could not hear

To be sure there was
No wind, I opened
The window
To have true north
Hit me between the eyes

Immediately I knew
The icy sting of death,
The opposite of fire,
Was waiting in the dark
To prove that the weatherman
Was right

                           -Joan Ramseyer


Stronger Breed

In the North we
Are a stronger breed
Since we face the threat
Of being crushed between
Two semi's on any
Icy road

Long winters and
Gray days take a
Constitution of hope
For the next season

Our ancestors brought
In the harvest
And sealed the cellar
Doors against the
Cold to come

But we know the
Snow will melt
And the first above
Forty degree day
Will have our coats
Tossed in a corner

We duck our heads
Against the wind
And shovel the white stuff
One more time
Then we feed the birds
And glory in two
Sunny days out of ten

Our reward is
A beautiful afternoon
In July when we
Watch our children
Frolic by the lake shore
And see the sparkling droplets
Run off their
Innocent skin

                       -Joan Ramseyer