Over the Thompson,

Plus seven, and blowing strong,

Water running everywhere,

It shouldn’t take too long.

 To clear the snow,

From our cabin roof,

And expose a little grass,

On the southern slopes,

And ridge by the pass.

 Winter birds gather at the feeder,

Grosbeak, and chickadee,

Whisky Jack and Blue Jay,

And a little flash of red...

I see.

Welcome back Robin...

Mike Puhallo

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