I hear the droning moans of Winter
Blowing on my house so cold
Northwest winds from Dakota plains
Aimed at this Dakota home

It’s endurance is commendable
One hundred and eight years
Of standing here in this weather,
I have only been here forty-nine

There are creaks and groans
And sagging a bit from settling
Crackled, worn and flaking...
And the house is aging too.

Rise and set
Right to left
Moss on my back

My skin grows thicker
Wrinkles and rings
One more each year

More leaves each year
I shed in fall
Dead sticks to the wind

I shade the warm
Hold nests for birds
And squirrels

I push my roots
As deep as I can
To find more water

My friends around me
Battle for the sky
Together we are forest.

I lost the sun so
I asked the trees
In darkness they mourned
And threw their leaves
Down to the cold
Hard ground

I asked the wind
It shushed me loudly

I asked the house
That slept alone
It sat there with eyes closed

I asked the lake
The ripples laughed
At my request
And sparkled specks
From sky above.

The snow didn't melt at all today
I found it just like I left it
When I came out from work
In the dark of December

I shuddered in my jacket
Jingled my key and unlocked my car
With a button and a chirp
Then opened my door

The thin orange strip lay along
The horizon and darkened
With each passing second
I started my car and turned up the heat

Pasture hills sloping
Green blades rushing
Wave after wave flowing

Falling and rising
Following
Chasing

Sailing straight
Clouds ignoring
The grounded race below

Broken sunglasses
Sitting on my dresser
If I can find the part
Out there somewhere
I can fix them

Jeans too small
In a drawer in my dresser
If I can lose some weight
With diet and exercise
I can wear them

An unframed print
Waiting for a frame on my dresser
It was for a friend
That I don’t talk to anymore
But I could

That dresser is full of “if”s
It’s got drawers and drawers
Of “should’ve”s and “could’ve”s
Things I need to do
And fix.