BEFORE THE PINES WERE GONE

 

lost under the heavy snow-covered branches

we saw the fort was mostly built already

a slanting roof and long walls

only a door was still needed

 

we built whatever was necessary with mittens on

we covered the open door in a picnic blanket

(each season calls forth a new meaning)

until it was twilight, we were frozen wild

 

then with red cheeks and noses

we toddled in out of the icy dark, shaking off snow

and always we were met by the same reliable mug

of warm, comforting hot cocoa