I seem to hear the base
of some kind of music
behind the walls here,
but nobody lives
on the other side of these walls

Those are city sounds

This is northern country

I wait for Anna to come home
along her forty mile strip
of snow-covered asphalt,
so I can drive to the country store,
by chocolate, yoghurt, fruit, oat drink,
fish, potatoes

Today, down at the mailbox
by the road
I found The Gary Snyder Reader
that I'd ordered

Maybe I'm a wee bit influenced!