Wednesday, December 8, 2010

When the Winter Wanders

I will be ready
When the last of the leaves fall
And the migrating birds call.
I will know
As life turns a white sheen
And there be not much green.
I will wander
Like the first snow
Oh, how the wise owl knows.
I learn
And see
And observe the grey skies.
My life is white
For now
Until next time.