Nelda Hartman Poems

It's march and I wonder if you know
where did the last snowflake go?
He packed his fluffy white bag
and caught his best friend
...

I lay dreaming warm and still
protected from winter's chill.
While I slept little did I know
a storm brought sleet and snow
...

Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
...