A REFUGE FOR POETS WHO WRITE IN THE LYRIC TRADITION,
WITH RHYME AND METER, WITH OR WITHOUT MUSIC
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WHEN THE SNOW AND THE FROST ARE ALL OVER
Oh summertime blooms in the Tennessee hills
With fields of wildflowers and clover;
But the wintertime beauty is mightier still,
When the snow and the frost are all over.
And sometimes the mist there can linger for days,
Sometimes by nightfall there’s frost on the way,
And early next morning the clouds clear away,
And the snow and the frost are all over.
Like feathers attached to the branches of trees
That fall to the ground with the gentlest breeze
When the sun’s shining down just as big as you please,
And the snow and the frost are all over.
On the southernmost side where the frost hasn’t been,
In wintertime scarcely a leaf can be seen,
But the Tennessee side it is all evergreen,
And the snow and the frost are all over.
Oh the mountain folk’s wiser than anyone else,
The stone cutter and the sheep drover,
For to be there a-watching the ice as it melts,
When the snow and the frost are all over.
And summertime blooms in the Tennessee hills
With fields of wildflowers and clover;
But the wintertime beauty is mightier still,
When the snow and the frost are all over.
Schenectady, New York, 1974
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