The Woodsman Poem by Kwai Chee Low

Another cold night.
Tiny snow flakes shivering,
floating in free fall.
Pine trees stoic in white,
patiently awaiting spring.

Old yellow fireplace.
Fire crackling within,
hungry dancing flames.
Embers like demon's eyes,
cast shadows through the night.

His daughter's picture,
hangs solitary,
and stained with the years.
Still brings pain and tears
since ever so long ago.

Now he marvels at
nature's little miracles.
A squirrel scampering,
the earthy smell of spring.
Life does go on, unrestrained.