Six Months Later (After St Helens Blew)


The ash came in the summer; now the winter's white with snow.

It kind of makes me wonder whether I should stay or go.

I'm getting a little weary of looking in the sky,

And wondering just what will next be falling in my eye.

While I look out my window and watch the winter ice,

I think of those who sled and ski and opine it's very nice.

It reminds me of the ash that fell and darkened summer's sun,

Except it's cold and slippery and, to me, it's not much fun.

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