PRISMS

On the coldest day of a past year
( the low was ten degrees F or near )
in quiet hollow of mixed hardwood trees
I feel like I'm in a deep freeze

Deer hunting's the excuse I use
to enter this forest of frozen views
and test myself against the cold
I still do this, though growing old

It rained last night before this front
brought all the cold one man could want
but now at dawn it's calm and clear
I hear frost jacking the ground near

The sun's eye has now opened wide
above bare trees on other side
revealing a world of crystal white
with lances of a new day's light

So cold all the wildlife stays hidden
( not by my foolish challenge driven )
they've sense enough to stay in bed
and not brave this bitter cold instead

I catch color out the corner of my eye
slowly falling through the cloudless sky
which is deep blue for goodness sake
how can I see a lone snow flake ?

Now as a wind begins to blow
I'm surrounded by clear sky and snow
the result of heavy frost on trees
shaken loose by this chill breeze

each falling prism within sight
flashes colors from refracted light
I sit among a cloudless snow
as all the rainbow's colors glow

Like all rare things it doesn't last
as breeze transforms to arctic blast
over soon after it had begun
witnessed only by this favorite son

The wind has now become a gale
too cold to stay in lonely swale
I love it here but even so
me and my freezing feet must go