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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