CAN YOU SEE THE MOUNTAIN

Has stood tall for centuries, some never see,

Winter is a most beautiful time and scene.

The winds blow around and through each tree,

Snow collects upon the branches, a picture does change.

Icicles form, hang on the aging stone, creeks are so cold,

Deer are quiet but yet they are seen, life is more than dreamed.

There is a mist in the air, fog wanders in different directions,

History lives within a mountain, Winters of struggle and cold,

Storms that carry blizzards from times of long ago.

Keith Garrett