Perspective

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We are surrounded

tall snow drifts like ocean waves

blown to our house door—

I shovel an exit to

shallow depths on field beyond.

©2016 ontheland

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When the snow came I was so engaged with shoveling and mourning the-first-snow-that-would-stay that I didn’t write about it. This morning I remembered TJ’s prompt: ‘drift’ which really says it all.  The snow blew in three foot drifts to the front door, garage door and all around the house.  You could and can still see the grass poking through the thin layer out on the field.

Published by Janice

My name is Janice.  I started blogging as Ontheland when I moved from Toronto to a rural area near Kingston, Ontario in Canada.  Over time I have found myself writing poetry, mostly in Japanese forms, such as haiku and haibun.  One of my deepest interests is the natural world: the joy of it and how we can look after it better.

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