My Morning Run


Four inches of fresh
Nothing but
a gray rut
and a black dog on white snow

to guide my way.

First tracks on the hills
But there is light
hovering in the eastern sky
turning clouds in the west

into mountain ranges.

Back on the flats
Still no traffic
but a lone snow plow
in the distance

brings the dog to a heel.

I can see a skim of ice
The promise of Spring
in the rushing water
moles in the fields

grab the dog’s ears.

The main road has been plowed
There are red barns
with white roofs
blue garbage cans and brown fence posts

With fluffy caps.

The world has changed
From black and white to color
my brain is set
my heart is settled

for my day.


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3 Responses to My Morning Run

  1. Beth waddel says:

    YAY, Kathy,

    So glad you are writing about your experiences as a WackyWidow.
    My thought is if we wacky widows share our wackiness we will be doing both ourselves and others a whole lotta good.

    Keep it up, lady,

  2. Karen Jennings says:

    Hi Kathie,
    Loved the poem! Just tuning into the fact you have started this blogg. Looking forward to more posts.

  3. Phil Druker says:


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