Excited in the gloom of the classroom,
Watching the great puffs of snow
Floating majestically,
Floating to earth.
Electric strip lights barely illuminating
The paper on my desk.
I could not concentrate.
All heads were turned towards the window;
It was snowing!
An unspoken wave of rebellion would drift
From desk to desk.The teacher looking irritated,
Would choose to ignore it.
I could hardly wait for the bell,
To dash towards the coat pegs,
Though holding back with strained patience
For the scrabbling throng to thin sufficiently
Before grabbing my coat.
Then I stepped out into the sudden coldness
Which had secretly arrived with the snow,
Stinging my face to a russet shine.
I gazed through the feathered shower of white
Where sat the pale peach glow of a winter's sky.
A solid mass of indiscernable clouds,
Bloated, barely hanging above the trees
With their burden of snow.
As I tramped homeward bound
On that ever deepening crunching carpet of white,
I would feel my fingers begin to burn,my toes to numb
And picture the plates of piping hot stew
That waited for my brothers and I.
I could see mother, stooped over the coke boiler,
Rattling the glowing coals to an angry flame.
And of course, always impatient to get the warmth
Of the house coursing through my veins,
I would present my bare feet to the open fire.
Suffering from the red-faced agony of chilblains
I would muse with a painful smile
That winter had truly arrived.
