Poetry from the Cabin 01/11/2024

Fight the roads on way to town

Through drifts of snow and trees blown down

The highway cut to byway speeds

Slow trip to town to fill some needs

Two quarters now fill up one hour

The truck it sways under breaths power

The grocery store for minutes ten

The printing store for ten again

Now back onto the mountain roads

The mornings tracks are filled with snow

The beauty of this fresh white land

Untacked by wildlife or man

No pizza here will be delivered

To buy in bulk must be considered

Beyond the reach of quick convenience

This land it calls for self sufficience

Step inside the cozy home

With fragrant soup on kitchen stove

The fireplace is burning hot

I think the Lord this is my lot