
Winter is a Symphony
to me
winter is a symphony
of spinning tires,
scraping windows
and you know
the sound boots make
on the crust — crunch
crunch
and damn winter
yelled from across
the street
as the neighbour
engages in a battle
with several mounds
of impure snow
as the days compress
and the surfaces
of many things
ice up and transform,
the solstice wind
produces a tone
that harmonizes perfectly
with the sound of snoring
under heavy blankets
winter’s symphony
includes hockey sticks
hitting pucks
and a rhythmic concerto
featuring fifty pairs
of random sized skates
on Echo Lake
a snow ball
impacting the side
of a small head
clad in a wool toque
is subtly percussive
the creaking
of the wood-stove door,
the crackling of the fire,
the sizzling
of the near empty water pot
all create
a warm sonata
in November
the overture begins
with down coats, mitts and scarves
to prohibit the fierce cold
from penetrating our bones
