We had a BIG snowstorm earlier this week. I took the two photographs posted here last December. My backyard looks pretty much the same at the moment. The snow reminded me of a poem that I wrote about my childhood about fifteen years ago.
Here is another memoir poem from my unpublished collection titled A Home for the Seasons. In Early Snow, I wrote about my memory of a snowy day when I went sliding with two of my cousins in my maternal grandparents’ yard. My cousins, both girls, lived on the other side of my grandparents’ duplex. The older of my two cousins was just two weeks younger than I—and her sister was a year younger. We three cousins spent a lot of time together when we were kids—especially during the summer months.
EARLY SNOW
By Elaine Magliaro
Just before Christmas
we have an unexpected storm.
Now snow covers the yard,
Dzidzi’s garden
with a downy quilt.
The apple tree, the plum and pear trees
have grown thin white wings,
look ready to fly away.
The stout lilac bush
floats above the ground
like a fallen cloud.
We get our sleds, the silver saucer,
and race up the incline to the snow-crusted hedge.
We whoosh down to the garden
through a light whipped cream world.
Everything has turned the color of winter.
Even the sky, marshmallow-white,
has forgotten how to be blue.
EARLY SNOW
By Elaine Magliaro
Just before Christmas
we have an unexpected storm.
Now snow covers the yard,
Dzidzi’s garden
with a downy quilt.
The apple tree, the plum and pear trees
have grown thin white wings,
look ready to fly away.
The stout lilac bush
floats above the ground
like a fallen cloud.
We get our sleds, the silver saucer,
and race up the incline to the snow-crusted hedge.
We whoosh down to the garden
through a light whipped cream world.
Everything has turned the color of winter.
Even the sky, marshmallow-white,
has forgotten how to be blue.
**********
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Carol’s Corner this week.
Happy New Year to All!!!
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