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In deepest winter yet I walk
among my friends now all stripped bare
as time continues its slow stalk,
that lone hunter we all share,
but he's forgotten on this day.

For I've come here to escape time
as chill winds toss scant clouds about
and outlines puddles with thin rime
in low spots all along my route,
a logging road of frozen clay.

Until I find a favorite spot
a low bluff over middling stream
a place I think by most forgot
a perfect place to sit and dream
to listen to the pine trees sway.

So I sit and let mind wander
to places and the people passed
then about my future ponder,
the end of which approaches fast
as middle age now slips away.

Which leads me to the coming spring;
its promise of continued life,
the hope and blessings it will bring,
another year with loving wife,
and a grandson with which to play.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


In your life?is that the spring.?

Yes there is. After being told by both sons and daughters-in-law that there was no interest in having children .We were surprised with a grandson the first of February. So now I'm Officiallyy and old codger lol. .............stan PS Did I not post the poem "BUNDLES' here? better check that...............stan

author comment

And it was good. I remember the gray haired arms

i Thought I'd posted it by way of announcement lol.............stan

author comment

... would that please or insult you?
I have always been able to count on you presenting me, with a clear mind's eye, a fresh and accurate picture. Snowy woods on a winter's evening and more. You are a lovely poet.
If I have no children and therefore no chance to be a grandfather, can I still grow up to be an old codger? I really want to be an old codger. They can do or say anything and get away with it.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Chris and Lonnie have both called me Norman and how could one be offended by being compared to such an artist? And I thought you were Already a codger because you always say what you want anyway lol. Now excuse me , I have to go buy some bigger hats..............stan

author comment

only Geminis and Scorp's have two sons
well though it's late
2013 now tis 17
belated Congrats stan for gc son
to u and your winner son

modern days guys
responsibility shun
well may be
they want to pun
while having fun

I've been doing a bit of editing on even some of my old stuff lately but it'a a bonus when an edit elicits a response. Appreciate the visit.....stan

author comment

hat trick stan

Stan, this is one I like a lot. Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I never cease being surprised when an edit brings out a comment lol. I appreciate your visit......stan

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