Inspired by the news of the August snowfall in Alberta (see the HuffPost article or CBC), I found myself reminiscing about my childhood there and the pretty regular occurrence of hard frosts and snow during this time of year. Inspired by a conversation, I wrote a poem.
August snow and killing frost
“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may”
the weatherman warns
Frantic rush for
pink stars on pale green
to ripen later on the window sill
The first and last tomato harvest
Floral patterned ghosts appear
Hope haunting the garden as
deathly chill settles in the dusk
The distant cry of geese
calling their goodbyes
or taunting us with their freedom?
Hot tea.
Aching, frozen hands
cradle the warm mug as sensation returns
Tears for all that will be lost tonight
and for the long, dark cold to come.
Jabbok Dawn 