melissaahowells
|
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
the snow has convinced the sun
to hide away it is nearly nine yet the sky is dull and greyed and during the night it was velvet violet densely blotting out stars with an eon of falling flakes muffling the earth trapping the city in a blanketing of forced quiet the piles of white have filled our snow globe wilderness up to its brim as i sit brooding within dreaming of forts and shovels and childhood's lost landscapes flying down white hills in saucers sloughing along in drift in moon boots echoing voices in the warming house and the sharp slap of hockey pucks against the boards and the slicing of skate blades skirting new ice a time when winter snow was a backdrop a device for the long days into night of childhood when it was so grand to pretend to be an Eskimo and build forts from blocks of snow white puffs of air form now in front of me as I sleep my dreams of seven-story high drifts in a winterish wonderland I awaken rosy cheeked and braced with a craving for hot cocoa and the crinkling crush of snow under my little deer-feet tracks the broad smile growing on my face as I lick the falling flakes from the fresh cool air. January 10th, 2017 9:27 am PST thinking of childhood days in North Dakota legal copyright for this work/memory/poem for the legal copyright poetry site/title by this writer/author Melissa A Howells Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World Vote for this poem |
|
