The cold is here, frosting the pasture.

We do our chores today in a cold barn,

Maria has her hood up, there is is soft mist

curling from the donkeys’ nostrils,

the concrete floor of the barn sends

chills through my feet, my fingers are

cold on the shutter, we will put on

our jackets, get out the heated water buckets,

put some

logs in the wood stove tonight,

our lives change when the

barn gets cold.