I’m not sure I was ever passionately in love with snow, even as a child. But I certainly loved piles of snow when it meant getting a day off school. The school district here no longer has snow days. When the weather is bad, students have a Flexible Instruction Day, which means spending the day learning online. I feel bad for the elementary-age children especially. Peace to your ♥!
Don’t you wish the piles of snow
Would never ever ever go?
Or are you like my father,
Who considers snow a bother,
And always while he’s shoveling
Is wishing it were spring?
Speaking of Snow
“No more snow,” says Mama.
She’s had enough.
“No! MORE SNOW!” we cry.
We like the stuff.
We wake to white,
a wintry delight.
“No, more snow,” she moans.
We bundle up, go out to play.
Only then do we shout “HOORAY!”
I’m thinking of grass and blade, generic and particular, and how we are mostly color-blind to green. Slope, soil, weeds have made my lawn a lawn unto itself—now dull, now bright, now in-between. There are nuances underfoot that ants and worms have seen. I wish they could teach me how to separate the blades, to put aside green.
NaPoWriMo22 Day 16 — Even though I posted another poem earlier today, I couldn’t resist trying my hand at a curtal sonnet (napowrimo.net prompt for today) and combining it with the WordPress WordPrompt for this month, which is green. The WordPrompt also inspired the poem below.
Watch out for Old Man Winter— He’s sneaky, sly, and bold. He likes to steal your breath away Outside when it is cold. Then before you have a chance To ask, “Where did he go?” Old Man Winter covers up His tracks with fresh white snow!