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I met you in a winter Christmas card.
The wind played carols through the evergreens.
Snow fell like angel birds on old tin roofs.
The mood was appalachian to the soul.
Time painted us a picture of ourselves.
The gray landscape was bathed in candlelight
From sun almost too threadbare to exist,
And yet we thanked the faint warmth for its gift.
Home shone for us across a vast white field.
The way was long but we both made it, Friend.
A single frost star captured by the glass
Dispelled the dark and made the music last.
Copyright,2007, Sandra Fowler
Sandra Fowler
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