Winter

Winter holds its breath this year
Though not delicately so
The grass lies matted and wilted
Smothered in leafy remains and fallen twigs
The rains come and the wind blows
And the skies are gray and cloudy all day
But the snow is shy though rumors fly
That winter is surely on its way.
But this is just as I would like it to be
As my aging back would be aching otherwise
For to shovel a path and clear my drive
So my independent wanderings are facilitated
Is beyond my strength, and I would watch
From the warmth of my sun room
As the snow would drift into a wall
Between me and the rest of the world.