<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div dir="auto" style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">Winter Song</span></p><div class=""><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class=""> </span><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">In the first blue light of winter, frost</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">ices the roofs and lawns. A chill</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">keeps me deep under blankets, asleep-- or if not, stirring</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">only when all hope of rest is lost.</span></p><div class=""><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class=""> </span><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">Rest is for the cat, all four paws up, three white</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">spots of fur exposed. Or the hapless dog,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">aged, nestled beside the couch, legs</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">twitching from some dream-hunt. Winter night</span></p><div class=""><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class=""> </span><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">comes early, the dark curtain dropping</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">fast over the eastern hills. From the river,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">a thick arm of fog lifts, then descends the shivering</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">banks. I savor the white breath of winter’s</span></p><div class=""><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class=""> </span><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">hush. Its ancient music slows </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class="">my daily rush, though all the wild winds blow.</span></p><div class=""><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class=""> </span><br class="webkit-block-placeholder"></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;" class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>- Terry Ehret</span></p></div></body></html>