Red Sky

Out the door too early for a Sunday morning.
The ground is a crusty concoction of frozen wet snow.
The sun rays peek above the trees beyond the pasture

      (Beyond that misplaced home
      An island isolated in its suburbaness.)

And spread in a  red band across the horizon.

Red sky in the morning, shepherd take warning.

But the rain and snow have passed
Harmlessly westward to the sea. 
The wind blows cold, but the sun shines?
Would nature cry wolf falsely?

Safely indoors now illuminated in the night,
I know the sky does not lie.

One lamb is dead and one wide eyed by the wood stove.

Red sky in the morning, shepherd take warning.