A Winter Vignette
by Debi Swim
Sometime after midnight it was to start
I stayed up late to see the first
chunky flakes blowing quietly, crosswise
across the ground.
Fir trees wavered and through the gaps
a moonstone glow shown dim.
Soon the tool shed roof was covered
the yard disappearing from view.
I lingered in the beauty and splendor of
this white out. Somewhere, off in the woods
a hound bayed, tracking a raccoon, I guess.
I prayed for all God’s little wild creatures
everywhere in the cold
and trundled off to a warm, quilted bed.
Debi Swim has had poems published in two anthologies and in the Bluestone Journal for Bluefield College. She is a persistent WV poet who loves to write to prompts.
Red Wolf Journal 