The Proverbial Winter

Old man Winter is coming.
He trudges in the distance.
Chop and stack the firewood.
Don't forget the splinters.
Service the furnace.
Secure heavy garments.
Don't wait till birds fly south.
Or the skies are red
With chill is in the air
And he knocks at the door.
The old man is coming,
He comes to all.

Ah. The proverbial winter,
It comes to all.
Up and prepare.

by Walterrean Salley

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.