Bertie reflects on the first snow of winter

A Transient Delight

The path I tread right now is rough, unclear,

Dark clouds loom over all that I hold dear.

Although my body has not failed me yet,

And on I bounce, no obvious cause to fret,

Inside me grows a mass, malignant, cruel,

And laughs at me for being such a fool.

A fool to think that things would never change,

That ever onwards I would gaily range

Across this damp, expansive, Northern land,

At once inspiring, peaceful, wild, and grand. 

Should I feel grateful to have known the feel,

Of happiness, of life lived free and real?

I look ahead and see a mountain capped

With freshly fallen snow. I sit down, rapt, 

And contemplate the thin veneer of white.

Such unexpected, transient delight. 

Just hours later, melted clean away,

Like us, its time on earth too short a stay.