The morning clouds hung low Signaling the comin snow The herd was bunched up down by the crick They know snows a comin’ quick The cows are smart enough to get out of the wind It’s gonna get as cold as sin The tractor cranked oh so slow, Like it didn’t want to go out in the cold Even though it was noon The sky was a grey, cold gloom I made my round a chorin the farm Then skidattled back inside where it was warm The sky got white as could be The snow was falling where you couldn’t see White That’s all there was on the ground and up above I was reminded of the lamb, And his never ending love There’s something special about snow I sat by the fire I pondered awhile And after giving it much thought I decided I was lucky to have such a lot I’m warm, dry and well fed Plenty of wood for the stove A good way to be, beings I’m a half century old.

James Lockhart lives near the Kiamichi Mountains in southeast Oklahoma. He writes cowboy stories, and fools with cows and horses.