The Old Side Road

Down I walked on the old side road.
It was buried beneath the lofted snow.
Wisps of wind curled tongues of frost
That frog-like, caught the snow-flakes tossed.

There amid the streaming chill
Some parchment leaf slid down a hill.
Out on rails of ice-glazed gleam,
It crossed the road on the wind-witch scream.

I, all burrowed in hood and glove,
Was there to touch my winter love.
I, clad thick with layered twill,
Perchance would hear a whippoorwill.

Yes, the old side road would know me well
By spring-time flower and winter knell.
I am its lover, a man full of soul.
I am its kindred in this bitter wind stroll.

Yes, I trekked down the old side road
Where the margin pines bend with the load.
This is my window of the winter wild.
The snow-filled fields lie undefiled.

I love the side road, piled deep with snow,
As it winds past the barns and the old hedgerows
For this is summer's winter retreat.
And deep in my heart I'm feeling its heat.

Copyright Dave Martin