Another poem from my nana's 1942 book of poetry, "Wood Fires."

Okanagan Winter

If I were painting a picture of winter I'd paint A hillside of white, With an old snake fence Zig-zagging its grey pole length along

To a group of pines. (And a snow bird's song, And little grey gusts of the fitful breeze To show me the outstretched arms of the trees Cradling the snow).

And then I'd paint Some dappled horses, Plodding one by one, In eager line

To where the tufted Brunch grass shows Gold-brown and rusty Through the snow.

(And a snow bird's song, And little grey gusts of the fitful breeze To show me the outstretched arms of the trees Cradling the snow).