BITTER WINTER

BITTER WINTER

It was forty below and the ice and the snow
had covered the earth with a fury of its own.
A struggle to keep warm in the midst of storm
continued as the old man began to moan.

In restless sleep, he roused up enough to keep
the meager coal fire from burning itself out.
His supply of water was running so low,
he'd gather and melt snow, without a doubt.

Just an old prospector searching for gold
in the wilderness that he came to call home,
Many a rock he turned without the shine
of the wealth that he had sought for his own.

A bitter winter, one of the worst he had seen,
as the hunger pangs started to riddle his frame.
He would try to survive, just to stay there, alive,
until the blessed warmth of the sun came again.

He pulled on his jacket, wrapped his scarf tight,
and ventured out into the bitterness of the cold.
Memories and heartbreak flooded his thoughts
as he realized the price of searching for gold.

His family back home in the mountains of Maine
would not learn of his death until the Spring.
So, the story goes, he lost his way in the storm,
on his finger was his only gold, a wedding ring.

The search for riches goes on to this very day,
satisfaction with your life cannot be measured
by the attempts to succeed, without the greed
of even more possessions to be treasured.

Countrymom
1/23/11
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