Plain text:

Farm in December

by George Vukelich

The land lies sleeping in the snow.

The farm now warm and tight and snug.

Feather ticks and ticking clocks.

A blue spruce tree and Christmas socks.

Rich fruit cake and fat rum balls.

A piney smell all through the halls.

Mama in the kitchen and the big cats too.

The kids and the kittens go chasing a shoe.

In the brush piles, the rabbits hutched up

and spare.

Watching for weasels

and waiting for Spring.

*published in Wisconsin Tales and Trails – Winter 1962