I notice the snow lining the
arms and trunks of trees as
I lay, nearly pinned, on my back
watching the branches fork and
frame the clouds.
Bright blue day. So cold ice
puddle could ever melt.
My breath steams in front
of me, icicles form inside my nose.
It is good to be quiet
muffled by the Styrofoam
crunching of the crusted snow.
Whisperings so soft
in my head I barely notice
a light wind.
Only Juncos for company.
They ravish
the remnants of cranberry
popcorn strings hanging on the
transplanted holiday tree which
sits unceremoniously
in a snowbank...
next to a secret ice rink.
One our parents have yet to notice
until they receive next month's water bill.
The snow fort sits silently
near this child-made frozen lake.
I lay, looking skyward, in its middle
luxuriating in all the solitude
I can partake.
No brothers today.
The lake, tree, and the fort
are mine.
The frozen blue sky is one plain of endlessness.
I am snow-pants satisfied.
I open my pocket to find one final
stolen piece of white divinity candy
and nibble the edges carefully.
Ah, this is bliss.
Snow Fort Symmetry.
Copyright January 1, 2013 All Rights are Reserved By this Author
From a group of childhood memories onto the page.
Melissa A Howells/Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World
