A poem for a frigid spring
My son, Kyle Kreider, wrote this poem after he came from Chicago to stay with me in early April, after self-quarantining for 14 days due to COVID-19. We thought it was appropriate to publish this locally now, given the arctic cold and supposed spring/loon season. The Mountain Calls The Mountain calls so I must go To the place of Nordic snow With Moon touched lakes that frost and freeze And a winter wind that creaks the knees. Orion peers from up on high As winter seems to never die. But hark and hope, for spring is coming Soon birds fly, often humming. Lend an ear to ...