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Until it snows

The old rancher told me

This  time of year it’ll blow and blow and blow

until it snows

 

He’s gone now but I remember him in March, April  and May

When the wind howls for days on end

 

The trails I run turn to sand,

the fine dirt has flown.

Grasshoppers scatter with each step and my eyes are full of grit

 

Then one day it’s still

and the big flakes fall

I keep my eyes on the trail

because I cannot see ahead through the falling snow

 

Somewhere off in the white a meadowlark sings

His voice hangs on the stillness of each falling flake

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