The road through winter,
so very long still,
snow and ice beneath my feet,
the north wind whistling in my ear,
I close my eyes
and think of summer skies.
Up above not a single cloud,
all fogged up and gray,
the branches of the trees,
like garneted old hands,
reaching up toward the heavens,
I look up with tired eyes –
wishing to see summer skies.
Down by the river,
slushy snow all around,
the water still partially frozen,
no ducks and no gulls,
no green grasses upon the bank
and wild flowers don’t grow,
my eyes see how dismal it all looks
and I long for summer skies.
Up above a storm is brewing,
across the sky dark clouds rolling,
haven’t seen the sun for many a day,
silvery snowflakes come dancing down
and as I sigh and roll my eyes,
I remember how very different it all is –
when up above I see summer skies.