As we looked up toward the mountain,
It's peaks all covered with snow,
Trees and grass glimmering with ice,
While we sat here in warmth down below.

The firelight was gleaming brightly,
With a reddish, yellow glow,
As we sat there til the twilight,
Through the window, watching the snow.

T'is only in the morning, sun shining brightly,
That it all melts and runs away,
Down toward the valley, trickling into a creek,
Maybe, we'll see it again one day.

Copyright © Pearlie Duncan Walker
August 19, 1999

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