Snowy Afternoon
The wind blows the snow off
the tree branches.
So cold only the creaking trees
break the stillness.
Nestled under the rhododendron
sits the stone
garden bench.
The shape of a round bottom
and glove imprints
left behind.
Boot and paw prints
crunch up the porch step.
The shovel leans crooked
against the railing.
Noone is here
except the chug of the
chimney fire
and the relentless wind.