Diff locks on to give us maximum engine breaking,
We move down the steep, snowy hill at a snail's pace.
Drive round the loch slowly but surely in
Good old Rattletrap.
Brush the snow off him again after the dentist
And drop DD off at a snowy school.
Snow ploughs are out, and gritters,
And breakdown trucks,
And police helping people whose cars
Don't like snow.
On the way home, tide-turned,
I notice sea snow slush
Where snow on the beaches is caught up
And swirled in the waves,
And back home the garden
Looks more wintery and snowy than ever,
With tree branches drooping under snow-weight.
Glad to be home.