We recently had a weather forecast for snow and other wintery precipitation in our area.  I was feeling all the usual negatives that come with that kind of forecast, while hearing children and a few friends exclaim how much they were looking forward to it.  Their attitude put me in a worse mood, and while sitting looking out the window, wondering when it would start, this poem came to me.  I hope it strikes a chord in a few of you, my readers.  The photograph is of my gorgeous Blue Spruce tree in my front yard.

SNOWCHILD                                                  

When I was a child, I thought as a child,
And snow was a thing so delightful!
From school we were free; we got wet to the knees,
And our mom’s day was thrown all off schedule.

But now that I’m grown, I must do on my own
All the chores Mom and Dad used to dread:
Stock up food by the loads, drive on slippery roads,
Shovel snow, and repair that old sled.

Now I look with dismay at the skies leaden gray
As I trudge to the store for supplies.
De-icer and salt sell out fast with no halt.
I need new boots to tread on the ice.

The wind from the north is bitter and harsh,
But my temperature, still it is rising;
I am in a foul mood, for I see nothing good
That can come from a snowstorm arriving.

But then the flakes start, and I feel in my heart –
Watching white, fluffy, wonderful, wild
Filling all of my world with such beauty unfurled –
That in truth I am still just a child!

 

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