I knew just where that bridge was, across the little ditch.
I knew just where that bridge was, but I had the itch
To get out to the barn in an early morning hurry
To feed and water horses and off to work then scurry.
The snow was over boot-high, it came up to my knees,
Powder white and fluffy after last night’s freeze.
Snow covered every hummock, it covered every dip,
And thus I missed the little bridge and took a snowy trip.
One booted foot just touched a plank, the other only air
And with a whoosh of snowflakes fine I hit that ditch for fair.
It wasn’t filled with water but with three feet of snow
And the thermometer that morning had read twenty below.
Now in a fix ignominious I wallowed for a while,
Nothing broken, sprained, no blood, and so I had to smile.
But how to clamber out again after such a hurtle?
Right side up was upside down on my back like a turtle.
The beagle and the Labrador had broken through a path
And crossed alon the bridge above and looked as if to laugh.
They were no help at all as they frolicked in the yard.
When what I needed was a malamute or a St. Bernard.
The horses didn’t lend a hoof as they nickered in their stalls
And wondered where their breakfast was as they banged on the walls.
The barn cats just enjoyed the show and are in the haystack yet,
Let no one say that dainty things risked getting cold or wet.
Considered thus, in peril, I thought it would behoove me
Not to rely on animals as in a Disney movie.
My darling husband couldn’t help, he’d left for work at six,
And so I had myself alone to get out of the fix.
In summer, when burbling brook, this ditch does not seem seep.
In autumn, when the water’s low, the banks seem not so steep.
But come a winter blizzard, in truth I must tell,
That snow filled-ditch seemed like the bottom of a well.
It took a little struggling, it took a few choice words,
Though no one was close to listen ‘cept horses, dogs, cats, birds,
I made a few snow angels, I beat the powder down,
And I crawled up the other side onto solid ground.
Now solid is as solid does and it was drifted, too.
But from such terra firma I sure enjoyed the view.
I must have looked like Yeti, or the Abominable one,
More snow on my than in the hole when the job was done.
The horses snorted at the sight of a snowman flinging hay
While the dogs still thought this was a fine start to the day.
When all were safely fed and watered, though the world felt like a fridge,
I grabbed the mucking shovel and went to find that bridge.
It was exactly where I’d left it the last time that I’d crossed,
Just inside the barnyard gate, it wasn’t ever lost.
I dug it down to plank and rail and marked it with a stick
In case the snowy crossing gods ever try another trick.
Posted by Debbie.
