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.