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‘‘Twas the night before Groundhog Day
The frigid temperature of the Canadian subarctic smacked me hard this morning. While one day closer to spring, the first day of February was not in anyway spring like in nature. It made me think about tomorrow. I wondered if Mr. Groundhog would see his shadow or not. And then as always, I fell into…
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Winter’s edge
Ice chunks crack, falling from the sky Encasing the land, a cruel white blanket The sludge of a new iceberg firms and breaks free Small but mighty, they take on the world Lands end, lands beginning Breath freezes in place Waiting until summer to inhale again.