The roadside has been covered in a white,
Hiding the remnants of autumn days.
The morning sun shines with a blinding light
When off of the snow shrouded hills it plays.
The deer paw through the crust of the night’s storm
Searching for hints of daily nourishment.
Only the barn owl will witness the form
As it heads to its nest with evening spent.
He’s followed by procrastinating geese
Who waited too long for their migration.
The snow muffled cacophony of peace
Whispers comments on the situation.
These risers experience the serene
Of the truth heard on morning’s winter scene.
John Collings 