“The Snow Is Also” by David Hoadley

Sarah’s Dad is a renaissance man. He read my little winter poem and responded in the comments:

The Snow Is Also

The snow is also blanket to the seed,

out of sight but waiting to be born.

As is the name upon a stone,

no longer close but never far,

beneath the snow,

in each of us.

I took the liberty of titling it. Goals shortly.

I could go on, but I won’t because I’m a little jealous. I think I need to make him a Wikipedia page.